The British Colony of America
by Bast13
Summary: It's the fourth of July 1776 with England and America facing off with each other on the battlefield. England's gun is pointed at America's face and he...shoots. Nation's can't die like that but America wishes he had because now starts his life as the unquestioned British Colony of America. *Rated T to be safe because of blood and violence*
1. Lost

**Welcome to my first Hetalia fic. I don't really intend for this to be a super long or grand one like Pokemon Rust but I hope whoever's reading this will enjoy this :D**

* * *

 **England's P.O.V**

My breath was erratic. My heart was pounding fiercely and painfully against my ribcage and the rain was smashing down on me, pouring down my gold hair, down my pale skin, down my red uniform.

They were creating a tormenting hammering noise inside my head. Adding the desperate turmoil that were my thoughts into the mix almost led me to missing America's cries.

"Hey, England." the younger country sounded almost as exhausted and desperate as I felt. His voice was wavering but I wondered whether I was just hoping. The rain was persistent in its falling as it tore America's words up but, no matter how much I wanted to ignore all the tragedy, not even the weather could drown out America's voice.

America stood tall in his blue military clothes. The barrel of his musket was steadily pointed at the country's former brother, America being completely unfazed by the water rolling down his face or the vast fields of mud beginning to swallow his boots or the league of angry soldiers standing expectantly behind him.

"All I want is my freedom! I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on consider me independent."

I clenched my teeth together. Why was America being such an idiot?! He couldn't be independent. He wouldn't be independent.

There was silence filled his unbearable tension as we met each other's eyes. America's blue eyes were full of determination and resentment. I tried to let my message reach to him though my emerald green irises but he was ignoring me, as he had done so for the past eight years.

I narrowed my eyes as my irritation grew into outrage inside me. I began to step forwards, the soles my black boots slapping down onto the mud as I ran towards him.

I saw the look of surprise on his face as charged. The army behind him had their guns trained on me but America's was pointed away as he stood.

I yelled as I thrust the bayonet on my gun forwards but though I had caught him off guard he'd somehow managed to raise his musket in time to catch my weapon in the process. There was a short moment of struggle but I twisted my gun in a way so America's was thrown away.

I heard it crash onto the earth some way to my right but I didn't take my eyes away from his.

I was so close to him that I could hear his loud breath over the downpour. The bayonet was less than a metre away from his throat but what I saw in his face wasn't fear, it was anger.

This made me feel worse. Why was he being so stubborn?! Why couldn't he have just ended the silliness before it had reached this point?! Why was he so obsessed with his independence?!

"I won't allow it!" I said aloud, "You idiot! Why can't you ever follow anything through to the end?!"

"Ready! Aim...!" one of America's men began. Several other soldiers stepped forwards and raised their guns but they knew they wouldn't be able to stop me from shooting him.

But I didn't. I was hesitating. Now America was looking scared. He was staring at the end of my bayonet, which was hovering inches away from his eyes.

 _It won't kill him_ , _it's won't kill him_ , I repeated to myself. If I shot him it wouldn't kill him. I _couldn't_ kill him: he was a country. A country I wouldn't allow to fall under any circumstances, which was why I _had_ to shoot him.

I could sense the fear. In him, in his men, and in me. It was everywhere, rolling over the battlefield like a tangible fog. If I shot him then the war would be over, he would still be my brother.

Deep down I knew it couldn't return to how it used to be. He'd lost once before but he'd still attempted this charade again.

I knew that but even with those thoughts milling about in the forefront of my mind I did it. My index finger tightened around the trigger and the recoil of my weapon shook my hands tremendously, almost knocking the musket out of my hands.

The sound was that of a thousand whips cracking at once, blasting all our eardrums with its undeniable sound. A cloud of dark grey smoke curled out and upwards from the barrel of my gun but it was stained with red. Blood had filled the cold air and continued to fall from America's face as he was pushed back by the impact and collapsed into the mud.

There was a great ripple of shock that spread throughout the army in front of me. Their country had been shot and they were all feeling it. The entirety of the so-called 'United States' had felt it that day on the fourth of July. They had lost.

We were all still for a moment. I was staring in horror at America. His face was stained completely with his own blood and his nose looked broken. His dark blonde hair was coated with the wet earth, as was his uniform.

The Americans didn't know what to do. They couldn't kill me and I was still armed. My eyes steeled in threat and one by one they all dropped their weapons.

I had won and I was going to make sure that nothing like this would ever happen again. The sun would _never_ set on the British Empire. As soon as everyone learnt that we would be able to live in peace again.

* * *

 **America P.O.V**

The pain in my face was unbelievable. It felt like there was a knife in my face that no-one had bothered to take out. I couldn't make out any thoughts over the pain. I tried clenching my teeth and tensing my jaw but nothing I did made it bearable. I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't fall back asleep over the agony. I didn't even know countries could be in this much pain. I couldn't do anything but suffer in the darkness brought on by my own eyelids.

I didn't know how long I'd been there for or how long ago it had been since...

A sharp pain-filled gasp escaped my lips as the memories as torturous as my body began to pervade the only recesses of my mind _not_ consumed with pain.

 _He shot me_... _He shot me_... _He shot me_... _He shot me_... _He shot me_... _He shot me_... _He shot me_...

Why was that all I could think!?

I should have been trying to escape from whatever prison I knew I would open my eyes onto but I couldn't think straight.

I was stuck in the cycle of suffering for goodness-knows how long, my swirling mind plagued by England's face just before he'd shot me, and I almost wished that I could die. The insanity was over a thousand times worse than death.

If I was feeling like this then I was terrified to think of what condition the people would be in but the lack of clarity inside was constantly there to interfere with my brain.

I spend _so_ long in that state. Sometimes I would fall to unconsciousness just because my body was too exhausted to work but I spent most of it in the aware darkness.

As a country I healed faster than humans but that would have resulted in _death_. Speeding up the time it took for someone to recover from fatality was still fatality.

But I was recovering. The pain was a constant in my dazed days but eventually, _eventually_ , I opened my eyes.

The light was so glaring that I had to clench them shut immediately but that light, however painful, gave me hope.

In all the time I'd taken to reach this state England could have done as he pleased with the US. That convinced me even further.

I wrenched my eyes open again and forced them to stay open. They watered terribly but at least I knew what on earth my situation was.

Confusion stabbed me like a knife. The first thing I saw through my tearing eyes were the white curtains, hanging limp from the posts of my bed like old clothes on a washing line. I was so frustrated. I had to think systematically and robotically, processing each thought separately to properly get it.

I closed my eyes again but then I finally recognised what I was lying on. A bed. The plush white blanket felt all crinkled up underneath me. My body lacked the weight of my blue military jacket and I felt cold around my feet where I assumed there were no socks or boots to cover them up.

The cloth of my clothes felt loose but warm. I twitched where something dry irritated my skin and my stomach felt twisted and shrunken like someone had balled up my insides and was refusing to unravel them but I couldn't do anything so I tried to rest so I could heal some more.

After a time I began to get used to the pain, as much as you _could_ get used to such a thing, so sleep was beginning to come to me easier.

When I woke up again I was determined to wake up again. I absolutely _had_ to find out where the hell I was.

I forced my eyes open but found I wasn't blinded this time. It was night-time, apparently, or at least someone had turned off the light.

The idea of someone having been in this room sent an irrational spasm of fear coursing through my body. I immediately began cursing myself for being so scared and opened my eyes again.

I wasn't quite at the point where I could move my head, since that was the source of the pain, but I was getting better. I had no idea that healing a shot in the face would take this long.

I looked around and found that I wasn't in a prison. The room actually looked pretty decent. I spotted some chests, wardrobes and a desk but the bedroom looked very decorated, with paintings, fancy floral wallpaper and a large light hanging from the ceiling.

I shifted my arms backwards and tried putting my weight on them. They were shaking violently in the effort but I pretty strong beforehand so let me raise my head.

The strength I had to put into sitting up meant I was breathing heavily by that point but my lips had twisted into a weak grin. _Yaaay_... _I did i_ -

I stopped mid-sarcastic thought as the surprise hit me. I'd spent enough time here to know this place. This room belonged to England. This was his American house.

I hadn't been there since the first time I'd run away from the British Empire. This place held far too many memories.

I was sure that I would have been swarmed in them had I not been attacked by a sudden rush of hunger. I mutely groaned. That must have been the pain in my stomach all this time.

But there was no food. The only thing I smelt made me want to throw up. This whole place smelt of England.

The next time I woke up things were much better. After I managed to sit up I pushed myself out of bed. It hurt a lot but at least I was out of bed. _At least I'm out of bed_ , I repeated to myself mentally.

It didn't look very heroic but I actually had to crawl my way across the room. This time the light was on, revealing the light green wallpaper decorated with darker blooming vines curling around the walls and a dark carpet.

There was a door but I couldn't try to escape when food was the only thing on my mind. Gosh, I was hungry. It was like a little man kept hitting the inside of my stomach with a spade.

Next to the door was a low table where I was unbelievable grateful to find a plate there. I was kneeling now but I didn't care.

I didn't care that the food was slightly burnt. I didn't care that it was bland. I didn't care it was fish and chips.

I sighed in relief afterwards, feeling soooo much better afterwards. I was too tired to make my way back to my bed so I leant against the table and tried to regain all the energy I'd spent getting over here.

My head lolled exhaustedly but then my eyes caught something. There was a man sitting opposite me.

His eyes met mine and though they were bright blue there was a dullness that clouded them. Unkempt dark blonde hair fell over his face but hadn't quite made it to his eyes. He looked like an utter mess though. His clothes were dirty and stained with red but it was nothing compared to his face. His nose was twisted and crooked with a single plaster stretching over the bridge as if he was a vain teenager. His skin looked as white and messed up as his shirt but it held a certain darkness to it that made me think it might have once been tanned.

He was slumped against a wooden leg of a highly polished table and his hands hung limply on the carpet as if he was a scarecrow devoid of straw. It occurred to me just as I was falling back into unconsciousness that that scarecrow was me. I frowned. I'd never been a particularly vain person but I just looked so different, it scared me.

I couldn't believe it when I found myself back on my bed. It confirmed it. Someone _was_ entering my room.

I pushed myself off the bed again and managed to stagger my way back to the other side of the room. I was so happy to find I could actually do it without faceplanting...immediately.

I ate again; it was bread and baked beans this time. I pressed my hand against the table and tried getting to my feet. I almost fell back but thankfully I grabbed one of the pictures in time.

I breathed deeply and clutched the doorknob with my free hand. I twisted it and swung my weight against the door but it seemed to be locked.

I didn't remember any of the bedrooms having locks on the outside but it didn't surprise him if England had added them just for him. I hated this. I was trapped. There were no windows and no ways out and now he was getting stronger it was becoming harder for him to just sleep the hours of inevitable boredom but now my mind was clearing, my hate for that nation was growing tenfold. It was two-nil to him but I didn't care how long I'd have to fight for. I _would_ have my freedom. I _would_ be independent.

* * *

 **And this was the first chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did or didn't I'd appreciate some reviews to tell me how I could improve! :D**


	2. Hello Brother

**Hey guys, just a heads-up that Canada and France are speaking European-French because I haven't learnt otherwise.**

 **Also, this isn't AmericaXCanada, just sayin' :P**

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

I was out of bed again. I was pleased to find it was exhausting me less lately but there was no other way to say that I was trapped.

There were no windows and the door was locked. Trying to break it down had not ended well for me and the room was actually a small one compared to all the others in his memory. There was a lone curtain stranded on one of the walls but it hadn't led to an exit. I'd moved the full length mirror away from the table but had spent quite a while staring at it regardless.

My nose was broken. I didn't dare touch it for fear of even greater pain but anyone could see there was something wrong by how crooked it now looked. There was a large wound under the bandage but besides that there weren't any more signs of damage.

But every time I almost fell or was suddenly attacked by the pain I realised I was not healed. I felt so frustrated that I wanted to punch a wall or something but I felt so weak that it was probably going to hurt me more than the wall.

There was a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and beans along with some water but I didn't wolf it down immediately that time. Before I'd been so hungry that I was willing to eat anything but now I could recognise it as English food.

I sat on the bed and glared at the plate as if it was England himself. I wasn't going to eat that. _Give me liberty or give me death_! I had yelled on battlefield. I wish it had gone either way but I was now stuck in the third option, prison. Whether I was in a dungeon or a bedroom it was still a cell to me.

I wondered what England's plan was. If he wanted to keep me prisoner then he probably would have locked me in the Tower of London or something. I wanted to bury my head in my hands but I was anxious about touching my face now. I was still that scarecrow.

The silence of the room was dreadful. The boredom was like a drill boring into my head and the plate of food sat in the corner, mocking me. The stench of the undercooked food mixed with the smell of England and forced me to breathe through my mouth in a vain attempt to ignore it. _Maybe a hunger strike would work_? I pondered. I hadn't been eating all the English food for days. The plates disappeared every time I fell asleep and was replaced with another bland meal.

I lied on my back and sighed. I closed my eyes and decided to go back to sleep despondently. There was no sound except my laboured breathing so I heard the commotion outside the door. I fell of the bed in surprise and a pain-filled gasp escaped me but thankfully it wasn't very loud. I pushed myself to my feet and began breathing quite heavily.

I balled up my fists, hoping that I could get the first attack on whoever came in, but I glanced down at my hands nervously. They were hanging loosely, barely even rolled up, at my sides. I shook my head, ignoring the thoughts. This was my chance to escape, to see what was happening in the United States of America.

I heard the clattering of the door being unlocked and I tensed up in a strange mix of fear and eagerness. I didn't speak. If they thought I was sleeping then that would add something to my advantage.

The door began to open and I saw someone come inside. The door opened inwards so I was hidden from their sight but then I made my move.

I mustered up all my strength and yelled as loudly as I loud, "Die!" and swung my fist at the incoming man. He saw me before I saw him so he managed to duck my punch.

The person cried out and I froze, trying to hide the pain holding that position caused me in front of the newcomer.

He had long, straight golden hair with a curlier strand poking out. He met me with scared violet eyes and had a tray in his hands that had miraculously not fallen onto the dark carpet. I frowned, realising my attack mustn't have been that strong if I hadn't knocked the food on the floor but, more importantly, recognising my brother right in front of me.

I looked to him and the platter he was carrying. There was a small tower of pancakes with maple syrup trickling down the sides from the top where it had been poured along with a clean glass of apple juice. I watched Canada carefully push away the untouched meal and settle his food down.

He wheeled around to face me again and gave me one of his sweet smiles. He stepped forwards, his arms raised to hug me, but I stumbled backwards to be away from him.

His smile was comforting and soft but I found myself resistant somehow. After all the time without seeing him I was unsure and after all the time in this room I'd become scared. I hated it.

Canada stepped closer, bridging the gap I'd put between us, but his face had fallen at my reaction.

"America?" he asked, his voice sounding timid yet sadder than I'd ever heard from him, "America, are you feeling better?"

I couldn't speak. Pain had come flooding back into my face and my jaw was locked tight.

"America," he repeated anxiously, "It's me, Canada."

Canada. My brother. Another person who'd been working against me.

"I..." I started slowly, "I want you to get out. I want to go!" I steeled myself to say these words but they cut me as deeply as they did him.

I stepped back again but this time Canada didn't follow. He stayed still but I wished he didn't. It just made me feel guiltier.

"Brother...I..." he cut himself off and sighed. He looked straight into my eyes and filled me with his sorrow.

He turned away but glanced back once his hand was on the door knob, "Eat up." Canada said quietly before slipping back through the door.

I'd been still until that point but the sound of the door slamming shut brought me back. I rushed forwards and rattled the door handle desperately.

 _Why did I do that to Canada_?! I thought regretfully. Why had I blown up at my brother who I hadn't seen in ages?! I couldn't believe that I'd done it.

I tried pulling on the door again and calling out for him, worry pervading my hoarse cries, but there was no reply. I tried for ages but he had gone.

I sank to my knees from regret and exhaustion. I wanted to see him again. I hadn't in so long. I sat there under the door for a while until I realised I was crying. _Why am I so messed up_?

All my hatred for England came back explosively. I reached up and used the handle to get me back to my feet. I lock my eyes on the plate of food the bastard had cooked for me and grabbed the clay's edge.

I clutched it so tightly that it hurts but I didn't care. All the fury had built up inside of me, letting me scream. I hurled the plate against the other side of the wall and it shattered spectacularly. Food splattered across the wallpaper and floor and broken shards littered the carpet, embedding themselves in the food and the wooden plants beneath. How I wished they could fly and hit England instead. How I wished it had been England, not Canada.

The pancakes were the only comfort I had left. Their warmth filled my body and the sweetness spread across my tongue. Canada had learnt cooking from France while I'd been stuck with England. My taste probably wasn't much better than his because of it but it made visits from Canada all the more better.

I was stuck in one of those moods where my body was slumped but my mind was far too active. I'd never appreciated self-hate but I couldn't help myself after what I'd done to Canada. My mind was swirling with the past until I fell asleep right there next to the door.

Things were different than they'd been before the day after. When I woke up, I woke up in the same place I'd fallen asleep. The empty plate was still laying only a bit away from my hand and the fragments of England's horrid cooking were scattered across the room as they'd been last night.

Canada hadn't visited me last night.

I groaned and knitted my fingers together, hoping he'd come back. I murmured this wish under my breath before scooting away from the door. The boredom was so overwhelming that not even my guilt-ridden thoughts could provide sufficient distraction.

But then I heard a key again. I breathed slowly and deeply to calm myself. _I won't get angry_ , I promise to myself. I sit on the edge of my bed expectantly and wait for Canada to open the door again.

The moment I see the door close behind the Canadian I walk forwards. Canada's had begun to widen at the sight of the mess I'd made and they widened further when he found himself engulfed by my hug before closing in happiness.

"Canada." I whispered to him and he whispered my name back.

"I'm so sorry." I said and the apology seems to surprise him.

He patted my back tentatively, but reassuringly, and smiled. I smiled back. Canada was so quick to forgive and I loved him for it.

* * *

 **P.O.V Canada**

I was so scared of accidently hurting America all through our hug and had been even more scared after how he'd reacted yesterday. That was the first time I'd ever come into his room when he was awake and I'd been dreading it.

I knew he'd hate me for abandoning him but at least now we were back together. Maybe we could be a family again. It was all I'd wanted for eight years.

His smile was twisted from the injuries on his face but I saw the genuineness. He must have just been tired yesterday.

Our eyes met but then I noticed the blue wandering away from the violet. I followed his gaze to me then, to my dismay, to the door.

My face fell at the sight of his enthusiasm but he didn't seem discouraged, "Come on, bro. I know you helped England but you've gotta help me out. I'm better, we can escape!"

But all I heard was the pain he was masking, proof of all his troubles. I shook my head despairingly, he wasn't better.

"I can't." my voice trembled and I saw America's face fall even further than mine.

He let go of me, "What?" I can sense him trying to contain his anger, "But you..."

I cut him off, "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

The sincerity in my voice seemed to shock him but he clenched his fists together, "How could you do this to me?" I never thought I'd _want_ him to yell at me, him being quiet sounded so wrong to me, "I'm your brother!"

"That's why." I saw the confusion strike his face, "I wanted to stay your brother. I didn't want to be alone."

America looked away from me, "You have France."

I nodded sadly and tried to meet my brother's eyes, "But Arthur has you."

He flinched as if I'd literally shocked him. The bedroom was silent as I waited for America to respond but he didn't.

I sighed. I turned around slowly while he stood still, looking down with a thoughtful and angry. I was about to step towards the door and let him be but then I felt a tug at the back of my brown jacket.

I glanced around and saw America. He'd reached out and grabbed my jacket with tears trickling down each check. My eyes widened at the sight but he spoke up before I did.

"P-please. Please don't go. I'm sorry." his voice was barely above a whisper but to me it felt like a shout.

My heart melted and I pulled my brother into another hug.

America felt warm but he was shuddering as he cried. I felt his head on my shoulder, his tears dropping onto me, but I shushed him gently and patted his back to comfort him.

"I won't leave you again." I assured him quietly. It felt odd that I was the one comforting _him_ , especially since I was always so scared while he was always so brave, but I felt so glad at the same time. I felt the eight year wall crumble between us.

"Brother." I whispered comfortingly to him as tears began to form in my own eyes.

Eventually I let go and sat him down on the end of the mattress since I was worrying about whether he would be okay standing up that long but then America asked me to stay with him.

I sat down carefully and we began to talk. We talked for ages and very quickly there were honest smiles plastering our faces. America was trying to direct conversation off himself so for one of the first times in my memory we were talking about me.

I tried avoiding anything to do with England or his country because I was scared of making him sad again but after about half an hour I realised something. I stared into his eyes while he spoke, I felt quite bad for spacing out afterwards, and I began to put myself in his shoes. I knew I would hate to be locked away from Canada for so long, to be kept in the dark.

I'd promised England I'd take care of him. America had finished talking and was now staring at me since I was silent and was staring down at my knitted hands in though. America tapped my shoulder and chuckled when I jumped a bit. I laughed with him but it sounded distracted even to me.

"Canada?" when he looked at me I saw he was truly concerned for me.

"America..." I began slowly, "I-if you want, then I'll answer your questions."

America's eyes widened before narrowing into a serious expression, "Please. Please tell me what's happening to the US!" he pleaded.

I stroked his arm and smiled, "America's fine. We've been looking after it for you."

But America frowned at me, "Why are you helping England so much?"

It actually took me a while before I knew how to answer, "It's just like I said. I don't want our family to fall apart. England wanted to look after you but he couldn't do it alone. He was scared of what you might do if you saw him so I took over while he looked after the country."

There was a flash of disgust on America's face but I put on my best comforting face, "I'm here too. You don't have to worry."

I stood up and briskly walked over and grabbed the plate of pancakes that I'd put down by the door.

I held out the plate and smiled apologetically as I handed it over, "I forgot. _Je suis désolé, Amerique_..." I blushed sheepishly and started again, "I'm sorry, America. It's a bit cold now."

My brother raised his hands, "It's fine. If you cooked it then it'll taste fine no matter what."

I grinned at him and put the plate on his lap. America looked from it to me and chuckled to himself.

"Hope you don't mind, bro. But this'll take me a while."

I shook my head, "Don't mind at all." I looked down at his clothes and something occurred to me, "Oh yeah. I'll get you some more clothes. You can change on your own, right?" America's laugh completely broke the tension in the room and I felt my shoulders droop in relief.

"I'll be fine, Canada." he chuckled. He began to dig into the pancakes. I smiled back and rushed towards the door, not wanting to leave him for too long this time.

I still locked the door once I was in the corridor but I now I had the knowledge that he was going to get better soon. Then we could be together again.

I picked up Kumajirou, who was pouting adorably about having to wait for so long, and apologised quickly as I picked him up. His fluffy white fur felt like a warm towel in my arms so I loved carrying him around with me.

My bedroom was on the other side of England's house so I had to jog down the long decorated carpet spanning the beautifully polished wood floor. The whites walls were covered in lots of paintings of several people I didn't recognise but most of them were of our family when we were all younger.

I couldn't help but smile at how cute America was in the portraits. I was staring at the walls as I ran, my violet eyes darting from each picture as they went, but when that wall opened out into the hall I stopped as something suddenly caught my attention.

* * *

 **P.O.V England**

I liked my study. It was often one of the quietest rooms in the house so I could read in peace. I had 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' in my hands and my foot was tapping unconsciously to the rhythm of the ticking clock.

I read but I found myself unable to immerse myself in it as I usually did. I began wondering whether I was getting old because my heart seemed faster than usual.

I sighed. It must have been the stress. I hadn't bothered to close the door because America was much warmer than what I used to which meant I heard the usually hard-to-notice Canadian walk in.

I set my book down on my lap and looked up expectantly at him. Canada was shifting his weight from each foot nervously but him being less than confident wasn't exactly uncommon.

" _Ce n'est pas bien, Angl-_ " Canada stopped abruptly at the sound of me sighing exasperatedly. He had an annoying habit of speaking French whenever he didn't want me to know something, even when he was speaking directly to me. Thankfully he stopped before he could call me that.

Canada cleared his throat then looked back at me sheepishly, "It's not good, England. The others nations aren't exactly agreeing with you at the moment."

I grit my teeth but try not to get angry in front of Canada. The nations were just a bunch of hypocrites. All I did was prevent one of my colonies from collapsing under its own foolishness but now the others won't stop trying to contact me, especially old frog-face.

But Canada noticed my expression and seemed to become even more withdrawn at the sight. I softened my face guiltily but he still looked anxious about something.

"Canada?" I said questioningly and the other country didn't meet my eyes. I repeated his name more forcefully so he'd answer.

"France wants to meet with you." he explained and my eyes widened.

"He's here?!" it only took the slightest movement of the younger nation's head to send me bolting out of the study.

I power walked to the hall and what I saw through the small windows on the top of the double doors. I threw them open after quickly searching for the key and to my disgust the blonde Frenchman met my eyes outside the threshold.

His posture was slightly swayed in, what I'd always referred to as, an effeminate way and his shoulder length wavy hair did not denounce that. France was wearing an apparently fashionable outfit with a bright blue coat lined with gold and equally bright tight trousers.

I scowled at him and he waved it off with an annoyed look plastered on his mug.

"I'm 'ere to see Amerique." France said as soon as our eyes locked which only worsened my scowl.

"Sod off, frog." I spat, "If you want to bug someone about a colony you lost, go annoy Spain."

France glared at me in retaliation, "You cannot 'ide it forever, Anglettere. Everybody knows what you did."

I tensed but I refused to show weakness, "If it's enough to end his idiocy..." I said open-endedly, not willing to wear my heart on my sleeve around _him_. My emerald eyes hardened, "You should go. You don't belong here."

France tutted annoyingly, "Well, as long as Canada is staying wiz you zhen I 'ave no choice. You cannot stop me from seeing 'im, Anglettere. 'E's my little brozher after all."

I perked up slightly as I saw a fairy fly from behind France into my view. I was silent for a moment as it made a smacking motion behind France's head.

I resisted the urge to laugh and say 'go on' but I forced myself to say, "Don't worry about it, Tinkerbell." I chuckled and France's face screwed up in confusion, glancing over his shoulder but looking straight past the fae behind him.

I smirked superiorly and he frowned like he'd had his wine bottle taken away. He put his hands on hips and pouted while I tried not to mock him.

"Canada!" he called into my house and my fist shot forwards in response. It smashed into his jaw and knocked him back. France brought his hand up to his jaw, his face an equal mix of scandal and rage.

"Not so loud, you bloody gi-" I was cut off by France's hands locking around my throat.

I grabbed his and we began mutually choking each other. We grappled, hurling around insults and each other. I slammed him into the doorframe while he spluttered in some sort of a laugh.

"What's so wrong, Anglettere? For such a small country you sure 'ave a large ego!" he mocked.

"Oh yeah!?" I yelled back, "Well, I've beat you more times than you can count!"

We probably would have continued like that until every decoration in my hall was destroyed but it had only gone on for a few insults when someone entered and reminded us where we were.

"England, France. Stop." Canada's voice was still quiet but the tone wasn't a meek. We broke apart and looked at him. He was hugging his polar bear for comfort while he looked disapprovingly at his elders.

France dusted himself off and his blue eyes brightened at his little brother, " _Canada, est-elle la vérité_?" he asked and I saw Canada give me an anxious look before replying.

" _Amerique n'est pas mort_. _Mais il est plus mauvais maintenant_."

I hated whenever the two of them were together. They could be saying anything and I'd be none the wiser. I didn't intend to learn French so I was dependant on Canada acting as a translator.

The nation in question's cheeks were tinged with red as he looked over to the clear impatience on my face.

I turned to address the two French-speakers, "You two can stay here. _Don't_ leave this hall unless you're getting the hell out of here." I glared at France and quickly walked off.

I didn't want that frog in my house but I had no choice. I had no idea why but Canada did seem to like having him around.

I sighed before I could stop the sound of sadness escaping. Why couldn't America be more like him? _Why couldn't America have stopped himself before it had peaked like that_?! I thought angrily but my rage quickly faded into sadness. Everything I did was to fix the mess he'd made.

I passed outside his room, breathing deeply as if the air was inhalable courage. When Canada spoke with me yesterday he said America was better now. He was walking, talking and eating after all, even if he was ignoring everything I did for him.

The problem was I didn't know what I wanted. I hadn't spoken to him since July and it was now September. Did I want to apologise? Did I want an apology? I honestly didn't know. Why had I been ignoring this until now?!

Nonetheless, I unlocked the door and swore under my breath as it opened.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did or didn't I'd appreciate some reviews! :D**


	3. Reunions

**P.O.V America**

I couldn't get Canada's words out of my head. I was ashamed to say that I hadn't really given Canada a second thought when I began the whole thing. My people and I were frustrated with being controlled by England so we tried to break free but now I was being forced to see it from his point of view. Had I been willing to give _Canada_ up as my brother as well as England?

I gazed towards the door. I knew I could probably escape when he unlocked it again, maybe manage to leave this house before England noticed, but I knew I wasn't whole yet. Freedom was my priority but I found I was actually content to just stay with Canada until I could leave.

I knew he'd help me then.

It was nice knowing that America was safe in Canada's hands but I did _not_ want England to control it yet again. So many people had died for our independence. It couldn't be all for naught.

I'd finished the breakfast Canada had set out for me a few minutes ago so now I was beginning to worry. I tried reassuring myself that he was probably just being careful like he always was but I was still scared. This was still England's house.

I tapped my knee anxiously as the minutes went on. _Why would he be taking so long_? I wondered. But then I heard the sound of footsteps outside the room.

I stood up and smiled, ready to see my brother again but when my eyes met the mirror again I began to see what he'd meant. All the drawers were empty so I'd been wearing the same thing since I woke up. There were remnants of food and even some specks of blood from when I'd been in worse condition clashing against the white. I ran a hand through my dark blonde hair and frowned, wishing I could wash it properly and get rid of the unclean feeling.

I turned away. I watched the door open and him walk into the room but I knew something was wrong.

The smile on my face melted away as I recognised the person walking in with his regularly cold expression. I was frozen for a few seconds, making sure it was who I thought it was, before attacking England.

I raised my fists and swung them consecutively at his head but he was faster than me now. England caught both my hands and I was forced into stillness. He overpowered every one of my movements with ease so we were locked together.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, America?!" England demanded.

I tried breaking free but they were like steel clamps on the end of my arms. I gritted my teeth, "Let me go!" I yelled but then, to my surprise, he did so.

I staggered back and almost fell onto the plush bed. I glared at him but his face was as emotionless as ever. He raised an eyebrow at my and spread his hands, always the belittling elder.

"What do you want?" he asked after tiring of my silence.

My breathing was heavy so it sounded like heavy rain. My shaking body imitated the raindrops and it felt as if my feet were sinking. Nothing had changed since that day.

"I want my freedom!"

England's green eyes hardened, "Stop acting so childish, America." he scolded, "You don't deserve independence as long as you continue to fill your head with idiotic thoughts."

England had shown that he could easily overpower me but I didn't care about the odds. I was the USA and I would not go down without a fight!

I lunged at him again, mustering up all my strength, and drove my fist into his face. England dug in his heels and took it but he looked back at me with annoyance.

"Are you done?"

"Shut up!" I yelled and we began fighting.

England dodged or simply blocked all my blows while did no such thing. I didn't care how many hits I took, I just kept fighting. Each punch drove a pained cry from my lips which must have been louder than I thought because they were heard through the walls.

* * *

 **P.O.V Canada**

I wanted to explain everything to France but I was finding it hard to find the words. I was also going through the entire conversation feeling very much on a minefield because while England had simply thrown away any letters sent by the other nations for the past two months I'd been reading them. It was not good.

England was always very protective of America so the other nations were quite unnerved by what he'd done, especially because of who he'd been about a decade ago. So I was trying to negotiate with France.

"We sorted it so I'm looking after America while England looks after the country." I said in French, "England hasn't hurt him since and isn't going to. He only wanted to end the war with America so everything could go back to normal."

France pursed his lips, "I'm not sure about that. He's not a very nice man."

I chuckled in incredulousness, "England's not as bad as you say he is. I'll be fine. I came here to look after America and that's what I'm going to do."

"I'm still not sure. I don't want either of you two to get hurt. And the 'British Empire' deserves to be knocked down a few pegs." France added. I frowned disapprovingly and he stroked my arm reassuringly, "I trust you but I want you to call me if anything bad happens. I'll be over here before you can say 'moron'."

"Please don't attack him. He has America which makes him larger than you and I don't want any of you to get hurt."

France muttered something which I was glad I couldn't make out and I shifted awkwardly as Kumajirou shuddered in my arms. He was a polar bear and they were in America so I knew something was off.

I looked down at his adorable face and saw how worried he looked. France gave me a concerned look.

"What's the matter?" I asked my bear in English and his ears twitched in the direction behind me. I somehow avoided freezing in place at the sight of his cuteness and followed his compass-like ears to the trouble.

I found myself facing the corridor where England had walked off into and my stomach tightened in fear. I sprinted off and to America's room, carrying Kumajirou with one arm while fumbling around for my key with the other. But I didn't need it. The door was open.

I was so scared about what America would try to do that I almost forgot to breathe as I pushed the door open even further and rushed inside.

"America! England!" I cried. Kumajirou jumped out of my arms as I stepped forwards and grabbed their wrists, stopping them both. I felt America try and struggle but England just looked relieved to see me there.

I asked them both to calm down but it was a futile effort since America looked so cross it made Kumajirou whimper from behind me.

"Why did you shoot me!?" America yelled at England but the older country's head had turned away to scowl at France who was staring at the scene in shock.

"Anglettere, how...?"

"Shut up, frog!" England snapped, cutting him off.

France looked concernedly to me but I gave him the best reassuring look I could under the circumstances.

I mouthed for him to leave and he obeyed, quickly darting out of the room and leaving me with America and England.

"Answer me!" America shouted, ignoring France's departure. All our heads snapped towards the angry country but we were shocked to find him looking like that.

There were tears forming around his eyes and he was shaking under my grasp. America looked so heartbroken that it was all I could do not to hug him right there and then but I had more sense than that considering how he was acting.

"Because you would have shot me." England answered quietly, "I didn't want to hurt you."

America tensed but kept glaring at him, "Then why can't you let me leave?!"

England's eyes were wide and him and seemed to resisting the same urge to comfort America; his free arm was fluttering unsurely by his side and he was frowning sadly.

"I-I..." the Englishman stuttered.

"Why?!" America's eyes became ice, "You have Australia, you have India, you have over a fifth of the freaking world!"

England somehow managed to meet his former brother's eyes, "Because I..." he clenched his fists and forced himself to keep looking into his eyes, "I don't want you be another colony."

America breathed very heavily. His breaths seemed to take up the entire room as we all waited for his response anxiously.

"Aren't I already?" America asked bitterly.

England shook his head sadly, "You were my little brother."

America sighed, "Well, I guess that's all in the...in the past now." he clenched his fists as if he was steeling himself but his voice wavered.

England emerald eyes looked sadder than I'd ever seen but his face was as controlled as always.

He shrugged, trying to pass off nonchalance, "I just want you to know, that you have the choice."

He turned to me, "Canada. Tea will be ready in about an hour."

England turned and briskly walked out of the bedroom but I caught the look on his face so when the door closed I actually began feeling cross.

As was America, "I'll _never_ be his little brother again." he growled but I turned on him.

"Why?!" I blurted out, "Why do you hate us so much?!"

America stepped back at the shock of my outburst and began to stutter, "W-what do you mean?" he asked, staring into my unusually angry lavender eyes.

"That's what you want freedom from, isn't it? Me and England." I couldn't meet his eyes any longer, "I just don't understand what we did to you."

"It's not _you_ , it's the fact that England trapped me and didn't let me do anything!"

"Do you know how many countries would have taken you over if it wasn't for England?"

America scoffed, "He just did it first."

I shook my head insistently, "You were never his servant. You've _always_ been his little brother and you still are. Didn't you notice how he wasn't fighting back even though you were punching him?! He just doesn't want you to be all on your own when you're so young. Neither of us wants you to be all on your own, but it seems you do." I added bitterly.

"Did you want to be alone? Did you want to be hurt? Did you want everyone to be hurt?"

"Canada, stop." America said meekly.

"Did you want people to die? Did you want there to be a war?"

"Canada, please!" America pleaded louder.

"Then what _did_ you want? And was it worth it?"

America was silent but his face said everything. I'd gone too far.

I chocked on my own sadness that came out as a strangled cough.

He flopped onto the bed, his expression was hollow. He was staring down at his interlocked hands and wasn't saying anything. The silence was invading every corner of the room and it felt like a hand made of guilt was wrapping around my heart but there was nothing to say that could erase what had already happened.

"I'm sorry, America." I was quiet.

America wiped the layer of tears that had been forming in his eyes away and tried looking up at me, "You'd always forgive me." he muttered, "It's just…I don't know…" he admitted, "I…I'm…sorry. I know you didn't want to do any of this but I made you. I didn't _want_ you to go."

"I know." I said softly. I put my hand on his head and made him look me in the eyes as I smiled, "Like you said, it can be in the past now. As long as you remember and learn then things'll get better."

I leant over and wrapped my arms around America. Things were going around in circles for us. All I wanted was for us to branch off the painful cycle and be brothers again.

"You know I love you, right? I never wanted to give you up."

The sudden comment surprised me but I was so happy he said that that I hugged him tighter, and he hugged me back.

I jumped a bit and glanced down as I felt a tug at my leg. I saw Kumajirou and he was carrying something in his other paw. Neatly folded, there were several squares of clothes wrapped in his arms.

I crouched down and picked up the clothes then placed them next to America on the bed.

"Thanks, Canada."

I smiled sheepishly and glanced towards the door, "I'll have to go out for a moment but call for me if there's any trouble."

He nodded tiredly and I walked out.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Why did Canada's words hit me so hard? But it didn't take me long to realise the answer: because they were true.

I didn't like being controlled. It was the worst feeling except for one, loneliness. I'd never felt lonely, not with people like James, Robert and Michael there, but I hadn't realised until they were gone how much I'd missed the others.

Maybe I'd just been impulsive with the whole 'freedom' thing. Maybe I'd just been childish…

I stood up and unfolded the clothes Canada had given me so I could get changed. It was nice having new clothes on since I'd been wearing the same thing since I woke up but every one of my actions was full of anxiety.

'Tea'. That would be with England, wouldn't it? So I'd have to face him again. It was funny how all my actions which seemed to make sense while I'm angry seemed so stupid once I was alone.

After I was done I glanced in the mirror and sighed. They were a slightly more colourful version of Canada's clothes but I knew they were England's. Everything in this house was his.

"America?"

I tore my eyes away from the mirror and turned to the door.

"I'm fine, bro. Don't worry." I called back before rushing towards the door, balling my hands up in the sleeves of my dark purple jacket.

It had an even darker lining while the trousers were light brown. Canada had even left some boots out for me so I pulled them on. They were well worn in but felt very heavy on my feet though that may have just me being weaker than before.

I was about to reach out for the door knob but then Canada opened the door before I could. I was greeted with his smile and Kumajirou.

I imitated their smiles. I didn't care what happened anymore. I just didn't want to lose him again.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

Canada led me to the dining room but when we got there England was setting up the silver cutlery around the many clean plates placed next to the chairs and around the many pots containing the food. He looked up at us with a surprised look.

"Sorry, but we're a bit early." Canada apologised.

England waved the apology away, "No matter. I was just laying the table anyway."

My eyes widened at the sight of all the food on the polished table. Steaming pots of, what looked like, beef stew and decorated plates of delicious food.

Briticisms were so annoying. I'd come here expecting some sort of light snack but only now did I realise that he'd meant dinner.

I didn't want to eat any British food but I knew from the fact my mouth was watering indicated the fact that it wasn't England who'd cooked this.

"I thought France had left." said Canada.

"I called him back. No point in having a tea where not everybody's eating." I tried finding some bitterness in his voice but found only the parental concern I'd always seen.

England gestured for us to sit down and he followed suit.

I was at first unsure but after barely eating for months it was like edible gold. I couldn't hide my joy at such wonderful food but then I saw both Canada and England smile genuinely at my happiness.

We all sat in a comfortable quiet as we all ate which was fine with me. When my fork clanked noisily against my teeth and I automatically looked to England but he didn't scold me. I quickly averted my gaze when he looked up but then I looked over and saw Canada feeding Kumajirou some boeuf bourguignon under the table.

But England just rolled his eyes with a knowing smile and continued eating. He ate haltingly but was marching through the French food anyway. _Maybe he was replaced by an alien_ , I jokingly thought.

Because of England and I were both being slowed down for our own reasons us two were the last to finish. When we did, England neatly slid his knife and fork together then glanced out of the window.

The fiery sunset light shone across his face, "Red sky at night, shepherd's delight." he muttered with a smile before turning to me.

"If you want, you can go back to your bedroom for the night." England began politely, "But you don't have to. I trust you remember your way around the house but Canada and I were planning to play some cards tonight."

His sudden trust, and my sudden freedom, was surprising. Our fight had only been hours ago but England looked as if he'd forgotten it entirely. I studied his expression carefully but couldn't read the Brit's constantly detached expression.

I should have embraced my liberty with open arms but, if I was honest with myself, I was exhausted. And cards with Canada sounded great.

The other two looked at me expectantly and I nodded.

All three of us helped clear the table and put away the many pots, plates and all but it was mostly Canada and England cleaning.

Then we all made out way to England's game room where we spent the remainder of the night.

It was more dimly lit than the other rooms in his house but that, couple with all the reds and the sunset view, only fulfilled the evening atmosphere the room created.

There was a large exotic-looking carpet laid out in the centre and several paintings of different forests and towns decorated the wall. There were gold and stained-glass candle holders on top of the oak cupboards.

The picture that caught my attention was the one over the mantelpiece. It was of a large mountain-like rock amongst a barren desert but there was a beauty and a grandness perfectly captured by the artist.

I guessed Australia. England's houses were usually full of world-wide memorabilia. His small-island cottages should have clashed with the international and colourful decorations but they fitted together nicely to form something unique. _That was the British Empire_ , I thought idly.

"It's _Uluru_." England explained, following my line of sight to the painting, "Or Ayers Rock. It's an amazing sight to see but it's rather hard to paint in the heat." he chuckled as he pulled open one of the drawers and took out a deck of cards.

Canada and I sat down at the oak table. The seats were plusher than the rigid ones in the dining room so I was more content to sit there for longer.

As England dealt out the cards I picked up the ones given to me and laughed before I could stop myself. The pictures symbolising the spades, clovers and other suits were of fairies, unicorns and other storybook creatures.

England chuckled with me and it was at that point I settled down for a night of games with my brother and him.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd appreciate some reviews! :D**


	4. Farewell For Now

**Just a quick message on the off-chance any of you guys read the other story on this account (Eira's adventure through the Avatar world).**

 **The writer is not dead, she's just a bit tied up at the moment while she's juggling all the stupid revision and _cachu_.**

* * *

 **P.O.V England**

There was a stack of envelopes on my desk but the bin next to it was equally full. My annoyance increased with each address I read. Why couldn't the other countries mind their own business?

Things were much better in the house. Canada and America were still close and I could tell that the two were enjoying each other's company after not meeting for such a long time but America was definitely avoiding me.

I knew it had only been a temper tantrum but he seemed to be under the premise that I was angry at him for it. I didn't really mind, it was his choice after all, but I knew we would have to resolve it eventually. But for the time being I was content to let his brother solve some things.

I quickly skimmed the return address of the letter before immediately dropping it into the bin.

"Bloody frog." I muttered aloud as I picked up my white china teacup and took a sip of my tea. I felt its warmth spread through me and let my posture slip a bit in my chair as I relaxed for a moment.

It almost felt back to normal but I couldn't help feeling guilty every time I looked at America's face. Even under the bandage on his face you could tell that something there was wrong. I wondered if his face would ever fully heal. Nations healed faster than humans but scars remained. Would I have to live with the guilt for that long?

America was a part of the British Empire so I was perfectly comfortable staying here for as long as I needed to but a few problems arose from me being far from England.

I trusted my government and my brothers to take care of the country while I supervised the governing in America but I doubted Wales and Scotland wouldn't take the opportunity to mess around with me a bit.

As annoying as they often were it was handy having so many brothers in the British Isles. They could take care of the home while I'm out monitoring our empire.

I leant back on the chair for a moment and smiled proudly. There was a globe sitting on the edge of my desk. The ocean spanning most of the world in a pale blue while the earth was coloured in as a faded green but then there was the red. There was a red line going down Africa. It covered Oceania and a southern part of Asia as well as a lot of the North American continent.

I rested on my arm and leant forwards to look closer. I pressed a finger against the globe's surface and carefully turned it so I was looked at the two small islands next Europe. It was such as small place compared to the much larger countries such as India or Australia yet it had conquered and ruled them.

I calmly resumed my straight posture and returned to my 'letter sorting'. I glanced down at the almost-full bin by my boot and made a mental note. Canada was a quiet but curious young man now and I knew he'd been trying to find out about my situation with the other countries so I'd have to get rid of the envelopes in a better way.

France wasn't helping the situation but I couldn't stop his visits. I would not, however, forgive the fact that he was attempting to work with America's so-called revolution. As if the boy wasn't confused enough.

Canada had been a great help to me the past few months while we took care of America. I knew I'd miss him when he left this house especially since I wasn't sure whether I could mediate if things turned violent again. I was too used to dealing with France where I could simply insult or fight him to deal with him.

I supposed I would have to learn eventually. I sighed. Things had been so much more complicated since he'd grown up.

I was systematically throwing away all the French letters but then I paused on much less curvasive handwriting. It was uniform and straight, very unlike the annoying Frenchman's.

I reached out for my wooden letter knife and tore open the envelope then pulled out the letter.

I knew it was Germany from the formality. He'd said he would help me if the situation in America got out of hand so I probably should have explained things to him sooner but if I was honest, he was the last thing on my mind.

I continued reading the letter but thankfully it wasn't as threatening as the others, just as curious as Germany would allow himself to be.

I picked up a clean piece of paper and an envelope and began to write. The idea of France spreading rumours around Europe was unsettling but Germany was the type of person to set the record straight there. If there was a choice between believing that appearance obsessed frog and Germany I knew which one I would choose any time of the week.

Halfway through my note there was a small knock on the door. I turned my head and saw Canada standing in the doorframe. There was a briefcase in his hand and another on the floor next to him that he'd set it down.

I looked up at him with a mix of sadness and surprise, "Are you leaving already?" I asked despite knowing the answer.

Canada nodded. I stood up and walked over to him. It was a shame but he'd have to go back to Canada at some point. I just wished it had been later on.

But I smiled at him encouragingly, "Do you have your clothes? Some travel food? Kumajirou?"

Canada laughed softly, "Yes. Don't worry, England. I'll be fine once I'm home again. Will _you_ be okay all on your own? I'm only next door, you know."

"I'll be alright, I promise. I know it's been tough lately but I was the one who raised America in the first place. If he's in the house then it's not like I'll be alone." I looked out onto the hallway. I saw a few more cases packed up behind Canada, "Are you leaving right now or do you want to have lunch first? It won't take long to cook."

Canada shook his head politely, "We're going to have lunch in one of the nearby cafes then it's just a straight trip until I can make dinner at home."

"'We'?" I repeated confusedly.

Canada's lavender eyes widened slightly, "Oh. America wanted to have lunch with me so he could give me a proper good-bye. Is that okay with you?"

I waved it off dismissively, "It'll be fine as long as he comes back. If he wants to check up on America then it's not like I'll stop him. Just make sure he comes back safely."

"I'll make sure he does."

I step forwards and hug Canada briefly before picking up the briefcase on the floor. We walked down the corridors to the front doors as I helped him unload all his things into the horse-drawn carriage outside.

The weather outside was perfectly American with a gentle breeze and a warm sun heating the ground below. In my travels across the world it became normal to have temperatures this nice but after spending so much of my time in the British Isles I doubted I'd ever truly get used to it.

There was a dirt path just outside the house so the wind carried with it a small amount of dust. The trees rustled and birds sang as they would almost anywhere in the world but it had a very different feel to England as shown by the considerable lack of fairies.

But I still liked it nonetheless.

Then I noticed America. He and I made eye contact for a moment before he turned away awkwardly. It was mostly just the fact we hadn't spoken a while now so I hoped things would start getting better after this. It would have to get better if it was going to just be us two in the house from now on.

"Good afternoon, America. Are you alright?" I asked.

America's face didn't really change but I thought I saw his eyes light up in a smile, "It was okay." he answered shortly.

I smiled, "Good. Do you know where you're going?"

He looked at me oddly like he'd expected me not to know or something, "Yeah. We're eating out then I'm gonna come back after Canada's on his way back home."

I nodded happily and looked back to the other American, who was making sure Kumajirou was safe in the back.

Canada looked my way before looking to America, "Come on. It's time to go." he smiled and the two of them boarded the vehicle. Canada gave me a quick glance but I waved him away.

"Cheerio!" I called as the carriage soon left my sight.

I stood still for a short while before breathing deeply. Something prodded my leg and I turned around. A small white horse with a golden horn jutting out of its head was trotting circles around me. I smiled and glanced back at my house. Where was I again? Oh yeah. Germany.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

We'd been travelling for less than an hour when Canada and I decided to stop for lunch. I assumed I'd be walking or taking another carriage back to the house but in any case Canada didn't want me to have to travel far.

The American town was similar to a lot of the others since nothing there really stood out but I found myself liking it that way. Life was simpler when things themselves were simple and Canada seemed to prefer it this way after all.

We walked through the bustling streets but as we did so I kept glancing at him and when I did I saw that he was happy.

The gentle smile on his face matched that of most of the passing people they saw and I tried copying it but there was the small matter of the bandage still wrapped around my face. I kept reapplying it in the hope it would heal completely but as the months went by I became less sure that could happen. My nose was still crooked and whenever I looked in the mirror there was still a prominent scar on the centre of my face.

But all that mattered to me was that I was back in America. Technically I'd never left but England's house didn't really count.

There'd been a constant anxiety plaguing me for the months I'd been stuck inside but being able to walk on sun-caked earth again made it all melt away.

And it was going to be my last day with Canada for a while since he needed to get back home so I was happy to be able to give him a proper send-off. I still had some money so I maybe I could buy him a present.

The bandage across my face didn't stop me from smelling the food being sold from outdoor stalls. This, along with the sight of Canada by side, almost sent me skipping down the gravely street.

I noticed Canada was trying to keep up with me while safely carrying Kumajirou so I slowed down a bit. The polar bear in his arms was getting him some odd looks but, for the most part, it cancelled out his shyness to make him just another person in the crowd.

My smile faded momentarily. Three months. It was almost four now. Four months without seeing my nation. I'd spent two of the months unconscious but despite time usually passing quickly for countries the time I'd spent away from everything had really dragged.

We were a pretty inconspicuous couple: two young, blonde occidental brothers strolling down the town, looking into the shop windows every so often and talking idly, but then, somehow, someone recognised me.

"America?" I flinched in recognition of the voice and wheeled around.

He was as old as I looked but with short brown hair and surprisingly weary and old-looking eyes. His hair fell over one side of his forehead since he was standing with all his weight on his right leg and was slanted as a result.

The young man's fingers drummed distractedly against his thigh as he stood but he was concentrating solely on my spooked face.

Then a smile spread across his face and he quickly limped towards me.

He rested a hand on my shoulder and beamed, "America! It _is_ you!"

Canada gave me a quick puzzled look while I stammered, "M-Michael?" just as incredulously. Michael's dark eyes fell on my face while I gazed at his leg sadly.

Michael frowned, "You haven't gotten better yet? But it's been over three months. I thought people like you could bounce back faster than that."

Canada's confused expression intensified, "He knows?" he yelped quietly.

"He knows." I repeated. Now it was my turn to frown, "Michael, what's wrong? What happened to your leg?"

Michael adjusted his stance and pretended not to wince as he put weight on his injured limb. He waved his leather gloved hand nonchalantly.

"It's nothing, especially now you're here!" he spoke in a secretive and hushed tone, "We can start to fight again now you're up and..." Michael's voice trailed off as his eyes locked suspiciously on Canada who was hovering nervously, "Who's he?"

I didn't get how _anyone_ could give Canada a look of such suspicion and hatred so I scowled slightly at my old friend to warn him to back off.

"He's my brother, and we're just about to have lunch so..."

Michael's expression soured further like every one of my words was a spoonful of poison he was being force-fed.

"After what that bastard did to you?! I thought you were strong. You're the United States! You should be fighting _with_ us!"

Canada's eyes flickered around nervously as the shouting began to attract some attention. I closed my eyes painfully and clenched my teeth.

"I don't want any more people to get hurt and die. _That's_ my priority so please, just go." I pleaded forcefully to the shock of the other two.

I cast a meaningful look at my friend's injury to try and get what I was saying through his head but Michael staggered back and regarded me with disgust.

"Damn you." he growled, "Those bastards may have gotten to you but the people like me will _never_ give up, you got that!?"

Michael darted around and stormed off before I could even say his name. He disappeared into the crowd but my eyes were still focused on the space where he'd been.

I felt like a statue. I was frozen in thought. Had I really changed that much? Was this England and Canada's doing? But I didn't want to call him back as I'd done with my brother when he'd walked away. But he was my friend, wasn't he?

I jumped as Canada rested an assuring hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realised it but I'd been shaking slightly.

"America, you can't feel bad about it."

I turned to meet his eyes with a confused and despairing look but found confidence in his. Things _had_ changed. Why were things so complicated now?

"You're the embodiment of everything you see here. Whether some people disagree with you or not, whatever you do is for their sakes. If you trust yourself like I trust you then so will they." Canada reassured me.

But my smile still felt weak, "Thanks bro." I paused, "Do you _have_ to go back to Canada?"

Sadly, he nodded, "I have to go back eventually. I've already spent a lot of time here as it is. But it's not like you'll be alone. England can stay here as long as he wants since he'd still in the British Empire."

I still wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Kumajirou began wriggling about in Canada's arms impatiently so he chuckled, "Time to eat, eh?"

His eyes were bright as they looked at me but I could tell his enthusiasm for food was a bit forced. But either way I didn't want to waste it.

I glanced around quickly and tugged on his coat. I dragged him into one of the restaurants I'd noticed.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

I'd felt pretty lonely without Canada and Kumajirou in the house but it was nice knowing thanks to his letters that he was safe, sound and happy.

Avoiding England hadn't worked since we were the only two in the entire house but now I found myself actually spending some time with him.

There was still the wall between us but I could see England genuinely trying to bridge the gap. He'd been cooking for me or getting someone else to do it whenever I was feeling down and every week we'd have a game night.

I was pretty lousy at chess but I was getting pretty good at card games like hearts or slam. It was funny seeing England get almost ridiculously competitive at some of our matches.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed. Now I wasn't confined to the house I hadn't really bothered to count the hours as I had done but I could tell it had been quite a while since the fourth.

I woke up to the smell of England's 'lovely' scrambled eggs and toast but when I reached the dining room it was empty all except for the plate. Morning light shone on an almost bare table but there was nothing else to do when my stomach was empty after the night's sleep.

I ate, managing to choke down his cooking after finally getting used to it again, but I couldn't do it with a peaceful mind.

I walked into the kitchen and dumped my plate into the sink. I grabbed the small sodden rod and wiped it down quickly then I put the dishes away.

I pulled a clear water jug off the shelf and filled it up with water. I tried following my routine to dispel the odd anxiety I was feeling so I strolled down the quiet corridor with a full water jug in my hand and filled up the ceramic bowl I'd left in the hall.

England had apparently given me a unicorn called Sparkles once. He acted so seriously about it that I'd tried taking care of it even though I still hadn't seen anything like a horned horse around the house. But something was drinking the water in any case.

Then I couldn't stand it anymore. I breathed deeply and put the jug on the floor next to the bowl. I marched up to England's study on the second floor of the house and I rapped on the door. I waited for a response but when I didn't get one I walked in anyway.

England didn't like when other people barged into his office unannounced but he never seemed to mind when Canada or I did it so I wasn't really worried.

His study was the most English out of all the rooms in the house. The desk and bookcases were oak and the carpet was a forest green like so many places you found in Britain. There was a globe on the table but besides that it was as empty as all the other rooms I'd checked that day.

Something was wrong now. I powerwalked to his room but didn't even knock this time. I went straight in but then I found something else.

It wasn't England but instead I found a neatly folded note on the tidy sheets of his bed. I picked it up and noticed his small handwriting written in purple ink.

 _Dear America,_

 _Sorry for not being able to say good-bye personally but the trip back to England is a long one and I didn't want to wake you up. I left breakfast downstairs for you and there is money in a box in the living room if you don't like it._

 _Don't forget that Canada is nearby and we're both able to help if you find yourself in trouble. I hope you'll look after Sparkles and yourself while you're on your own._

 _I trust you can look after the house while I'm in Britain but I already know you'll be fine. When I visit again I hope you'll have improved your chess game._

 _Yours sincerely, England_

It was very short for a good-bye but there was something even more shocking to me. England had gone home. He'd left me on my own.

Things had gone back to normal.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did or didn't I'd appreciate if you review! :D**


	5. Happy For You

**P.O.V England**

I always loved having the boys over. They'd come over to England for a quick holiday and I'd loved showing them England. The weather was drearier than the two of them were used to but besides that they seemed to be enjoying it.

America was getting quieter lately but it wasn't very surprising considering the amount of time he was spending with Canada. Canada was the one I was worrying about.

He seemed tense whenever the two of them talked, it was odd. I finally got to talk to him about it at about midnight when he walked into the living room.

I'd closed the curtains but the street lamps outside were shining through them and lighting the room up with a cream glow.

I was squinting in the improper light to read my newspaper which probably improved the stories. The world could be experiencing a golden era with international peace but they'd still probably report on how a bird is having a bad day or something.

Canada walked in quietly and I looked up from the paper to see him looking nervous. He'd been getting more confident as of late but not tonight. His weight was constantly shifting between his feet and he could barely look me in the eyes.

"Canada?" I said worriedly, "Is there something wrong? Is America...?"

"No, no. I'm fine, America's fine." Canada let out a long stream of reassurance that didn't sound very assuring to me.

"Canada. If you want to say something then spit it out."

Canada nodded and took a deep breath, "England, I was talking with France but since you'll be the most effected I want your approval first."

I frowned but then gestured for him to sit down in the high-backed chair opposite me. He sat down obediently and met my gaze.

Canada laced his fingers together, "Well..."

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

The trip from Britain to North America was always a long one. It was over three thousand miles away from each other at least but on the bright side, it meant a lot of time to spend with Canada.

I kinda felt like he was trying to avoid me since we'd talked a bit on the way to the boat but then he'd locked himself in his room so I was really starting to worry. I didn't really know what to do. There were other people on the boat but I preferred hanging out with other nations. They were better.

It had reached lunchtime on the ship and I hadn't seen him since boarding so I had had enough of the worry. I walked around until I found his cabin and then I rapped on the door quickly.

"Canada?" I called, "It's lunchtime now. Do you want to come out?"

"Um, no thanks. I'm not really hungry." he replied through the door. That was odd.

"You sure? We can eat later if you want." It was quiet and through a door but I thought I heard him sigh, "Or, I could go on alone. Yunno, if you want." I added unconfidently.

My shoulders droop in relief at his response, "No. No, you can come in. I needed to talk to you anyway." I pulled the door to his cabin open and walked inside.

All the cabins on the ship were small. There was a plain bed pushed up against one wall and a wooden chest pressed against the other. Canada was sitting with Kumajirou lying next to him on the bed. Kumajirou's white fur made it look like a small fluffy pillow only looking alive thanks to his gentle movements and quite snoring.

Canada didn't quite meet my eyes as I entered. They flickered upwards but stopped before they could meet mine.

He smiled weakly and gestured the box facing him, "Do you want to sit down?"

I frowned but obeyed anyway. I wondered what was going on with him. Since there's nowhere else to look in such a small space he finally meets my eyes once I'm sat down. My frown deepens, he looks sad.

"Are you okay, Canada? You've been quieter than usual lately." I asked.

Canada smiled but it looked weaker than normal, "I'm fine. Are you?"

I grinned, "I'm okay, just so long as you are. Have you been seasick or something?"

Canada shook his head and petted Kumajirou comfortingly, "Kumajirou's not a fan of boats but neither of us has been sick. He's just been sleeping through the journey and I didn't really want to leave him."

I internally sigh in relief; Canada hadn't been avoiding me after all.

"I'm sure the others won't mind a sleeping polar bear, most of them already know you and Kumajirou. So we can eat now and..."

"America." he interrupted, a serious look on his face, "You know how I've been talking with France and England recently?"

I nodded slowly but didn't say anything, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Well, France and I were talking about how old I was now, and according to the actual borders I'm one of the largest countries. So _Anglettere a approuvé_..."

I laughed gently and Canada caught himself. I was like England in the way that French was all Greek to me but even though I could recognise England's name and the cognates after spending so much time with Canada I couldn't understand what he was saying a lot of the time.

"He agrees that I'm strong enough to do it. He's letting me join the British Commonwealth."

I frowned, not knowing what the last bit meant. Was it an alliance or something?

"'The Commonwealth'?" I wondered.

Canada breathed deeply and anxiously, "It'll be an association of nations, the ones that used to be a part of the British Empire."

My face fell. His attempts to confuse the matter hadn't worked. I understood but I still didn't get it.

"You're leaving?!" I could feel myself begin to shake, "You're becoming i...i...Why!? I thought you _didn't_ hate England!" the words were supposed to be angry but they came out a shaky as I felt.

"I don't hate anyone." Canada said calmly, "That's what the Commonwealth is. I'll _always_ be your brother but this way I get to be independent and don't have to rely on either of them."

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe what he was doing wasn't a part of some nightmare. After all I'd gone through and how long it had taken to get over it I felt ill at the sound of that word. I no longer wanted anything to do with what that word meant. I just couldn't believe after all his support he was attempting it.

"But after all you said to me...I don't want to lose you again." the tears forming in my eyes began to roll down my cheeks and into my voice.

"You don't have to. I'm not fighting for it like you were, I asked. England said yes. America, you were young and not ready but I just want Canada to manage itself. This is different to then."

I wasn't hearing it. I'd been hit by a wave of nausea and I wasn't sure whether to blame the ocean, Canada's words, me or just everything. My face whitened and Canada looked to me worriedly but for the first time in who-knows-how-long I didn't let him hug me. I just ran.

I sprinted out of the room and down the corridor onto the deck. It was wet from the sea-spray but I ploughed on regardless. I wanted to continue running but the rail stopped me. I collided with it and halted completely.

Each choking breath made my body shudder. The ocean air made me feel like I was inhaling salt so my throat was getting sore. My head began paining like it was some sort of swelled balloon as my thoughts started running amok in my head.

Was Canada was going to leave me? I folded my arms but a chilling wind slammed into me and I ended up hugging myself. Why?

I was probably more dependent on Canada than was healthy. After the fourth and everything I'd just become used to his support. I knew I would probably get used to being alone again but it looked like a sad future I didn't really want to have to go through again.

 _Should_ I _join the Commonwealth with him_? I wondered but the idea sounded ridiculous even stuck in my head. I couldn't become independent. It would be too much for my country to go through and I wouldn't put them through that.

I leant against the rail and stared out onto the ocean. The waves were crashing against each other in a seemingly endless and rolling blue world. England's home had been out of sight for a very long time and I didn't even know if it was in that direction but I wished he was here for me to talk to.

It would be just him and me if things went the way Canada wanted. Well, that wasn't exactly true. England would always have his brothers and the Empire.

I sighed aloud, it was all my sadness comprised in one sound. It was long and as awful as I felt. It echoed in my head and carried on the wind. I marvelled at how the world could be so loud and so quiet. It was just like the mind. You hear your thoughts even though there's no sound for your ears to listen to.

"America?"

I didn't turn around. The voice was familiar and I didn't want anyone I knew to see me this way.

I heard a chuckle, "It's not good manners to face away from a person when they're talking to you. I thought I raised you to be better than that."

I spun around. My blue eyes widened at the sight of a nation standing next to the now closed door. His blonde hair blew around in the wind along with his red coat. His hands were in his trouser pockets and his smile carried traces of all the sarcasm and wit England was famous for but in his eyes I saw concern, concern for me.

"How are you here? Why are you going back to America?" I asked.

He looked at me with pity, "Canada told you. I came with him to help him."

"I...know...but when did you get here?"

"I was here the whole time. I didn't tell you because then you would ask why I was here and I wanted Canada to tell you when he judged it to be the right time."

"So it's true, about what's happening to Canada?"

England nodded, "One of the only times France and I have agreed." then he frowned, "But now I need to talk about _you_. I need you to understand what is happening."

"I know what's going on." I replied but I saw the look of disbelief on England's face.

"So you _don't_ understand." England concluded. My silence was all the clarification he needed. England sighed, "You and I both know how capable and clever Canada is now. If he joins the Commonwealth then Canada can have the freedom to run itself independently of France or me while still having all of our support. After all he's done to help me, I feel he deserves it."

I knew he deserves it but my expression soured anyway.

"America." I forced myself to meet his eyes again and I saw his expression had turned serious, "Is this all about you? Do you want to leave as well?"

I was quiet. It was a question I'd pondered for many years now but I still couldn't find an answer I was happy with.

But then I made out an answer. I shook my head and said, "No. I don't need or deserve it like him. I just don't want to lose him again."

England's expression softened, "You won't lose him. France and I don't want to let go but after he's done so much I can't find a reason not to allow his request. I trust him America. I know you do too."

I nodded.

"And if he gets into trouble the three of us will always be there to help him. We'll still be a family." England stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around me, giving a hug. I'd always thought that Canada would be the human version of Kumajirou but if I had to say something about England, I'd call him a tree.

England broke away and chuckled embarrassedly, "I'm not as good at this sort of thing as Canada." he admitted, "Scotland, Ireland, Wales and I were always fighting. We weren't exactly the type of siblings who'd talk things out."

Somehow, I managed to laugh. England smiled and handed something to me.

It was a small paper box but it was painted beautifully with the scene of a beautiful and enchanting forest. I carefully shook the box so its contents could slide out and I immediately recognised the cards. They were the fairy-tale cards England, Canada and I had played with that day I'd attacked England, the first sign of things getting better for me.

"Thank you." I said as I reached out and pulled England into another hug. He seemed shocked at first but then quickly returned it. I was taller than him now but when he patted my head caringly I felt like a boy again.

* * *

 **P.O.V Canada**

The hall we'd decided to do this in was the largest and grandest in Ottawa. Large marble columns held up the high roof and the polished stone floor was decorated with a long and wide red carpet. Afternoon light shone through the large windows and formed checker box-like patterns on the floor and walls.

There was a pair of tall double doors at each end of the hall I was in and above the two was _l'Unifolié_ , the maple leaf flag, hanging between the Union Jack and the French tricolour.

I felt unbelievably nervous but I pushed my shoulders back and took a deep breath. It was the first of July and the weather outside was great. I was wearing a navy suit along with a red tie and a white shirt as well as some smart shoes. It was a mix of formal clothes I'd been given from France and England so I thought it would fit the atmosphere well.

There was no-one else in the hall so my footsteps echoed loudly against the empty walls back at me. I sped up my pace as I practically ran to the doors in front of me. I wasn't a fan of being alone in such an empty and large area. It made all my movement even louder so I became even more self-conscious.

I didn't open the doors all the way. I only pushed the left door enough to let me get through without making too much fuss before walking into the meeting room.

There was a big round table in the centre of the room but the three others were standing close to each other in the empty space towards the southern end of the place.

The three blondes were all wearing smart formal wear but they were all waiting away from each other. England and France had their backs turned on each other, presumably so they wouldn't have to look at each other and risk getting into an argument, while America was leaning against the wall with a pensive look on his face.

The nations' leaders were having their own ceremony in the other room attached to the hall while we nations sorted things out between us.

All their faces lit up with smiles as they saw me enter and I smiled back to hide my anxiety. I was worried about what the future would hold and all the responsibilities that would come with independence but I wasn't regretting it one bit. I didn't want to be a child that lives with their parents all their life, I wanted to be the type who'd go away but support them regardless.

"Good day, Canada." England greeted.

" _Bonjour_." said France.

America just turned to me and grinned.

I stood to face England and he gave me a quick trusting smile before composing himself into a more business-like and serious attitude. I did the same and met his eyes.

"The prime ministers will be sorting out all the governing in the other room but I'm here to face you as a country." England began, "Joining the British Commonwealth means that Canada and the British Empire will always have connections and a mutual agreement to aid each other. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I replied.

"However, with independence comes responsibility for your country. It will rise or fall by its own people and circumstances. Do you understand?"

I agreed again.

England's smile didn't reach his eyes. They looked weary and sad and I heard the same things in his voice but he looked at me reassuringly, "Then I, England and the British Empire, accept your independence as a country. You are no longer the British Colony of Canada. You are your own country."

England held out his hand formally and I shook it but the handshake quickly turned into a hug between us.

We broke apart and I saw France beaming at me, " _Je t'aime, mon petit frère_. I wish you ze best now you're a full nation like _Angleterre_ and me."

He pulled me into a hug and a smile bigger than a banana spread across my face. I couldn't have stopped it if I'd tried at that moment.

Then it was America's turn.

America spread his arms and smiled, "Canada." his voice was wavering, "I just want you to know that I'll always be there for you, just like you were there for me. I promise. But I hope you have the best time you can now you're a country."

There was a sadness here. I was no longer France and England's little brother they took care of. I was taking care of myself but now I was also going to alienated from America. However I couldn't be sad. I saw their genuine happiness and pride at me.

I would have pulled them all into a hug if that wouldn't have definitely led to England or France punching each other. But I was content just with the feeling of knowing they were there for me and I could be there for them.

* * *

 **And now Canada is the independent nation, leaving America the only colony in the FACE family.**

 **I _really_ hope I managed to get this right. If anyone's read my Pokemon Rust series then you'll know that I'm better at writing fight scenes than dialogue.**

 **But I like to test myself so I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :D**


	6. The Time Was WW1

**When reading this please bear in mind this: I'm only doing secondary (high) school history so if anything's historically inaccurate you can A) take it with a grain of salt or B) say it's my universe and I can do what I want ;)**

* * *

 **P.O.V England**

'That escalated quickly' had probably never been more apt than now. It had only been thirty-eight days since that assassin had killed Franz Ferdinand and now I was at war with Germany.

Germany had been going after France but after attacking Belgium I'd had no choice but to step in. The 'Triple Entente' had the locational advantage on the 'Central Powers' since Russia and France were on each side of Germany but I knew I had some problems.

Britain was ahead when it came to weapons and technology but we were the smallest country in between the two alliances so it was the man-power problem.

It pained me to be aiding France but I could see that he was in trouble and Canada wouldn't forgive if I sat by and ignored him being attacked so horrendously.

My fingers drummed on the small table I had near the window. I was staring at the black telephone and debating with myself. Even though I wouldn't say it aloud I knew I couldn't charge into this alone.

Technically, I shouldn't be alone. I had control over many territories over the world so I would probably call on for their help. I had the British Empire and the Commonwealth along with the Anglo-Japanese alliance I'd made.

I hadn't had to help out Canada in his time of being an independent country so it felt pretty odd to me that it was me who was the first to call upon our pact to help each other but I wasn't the type of person who'd let my people die purely because of my pride as the older country.

As for America, I _could_ simply order him to fight as I could with any of my other colonies but I knew Canada wouldn't approve of it if I did it in that way. I sighed and picked up the phone, one of my fingers outstretched to dial Canada.

I'd be glad if either of them refused, despite my situation I still didn't want America or Canada to get hurt, but I knew that neither of them really could. Canada was too close to France and I and America would want to fight alongside his brother.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

The Great War was nothing like anything any of us had ever experienced beforehand. The old style of warfare just wouldn't work in these circumstances so we had to fight utilising trenches and bombs, it was madness and it was devastating.

I was in a meeting with France, England, Canada, Russia and Belgium about the situation. My posture was very withdrawn throughout the meeting with my shoulders slumped forwards and my head always being slightly bowed to avoid eye contact with the others. I didn't talk. I didn't really know why I was there when the other nations under England like Australia and India hadn't come. Canada on the other hand was doing really well.

Canada was still a quiet person but it was rarely out of shyness anymore. When he had something to say, people listened.

The planning was mostly down to the three Entente powers, England, France and Russia, but he was giving some really good ideas and wasn't afraid to correct someone if their plan wasn't. If I was anything, it would not be the planner. I'd probably just be the army.

I kept looking at all the proper countries in front of me. France and Belgium weren't looking as cheerful as usual but it was perfectly understandable considering they were the ones being attacked by Germany and the rest. France and Belgium looked beaten down as shown by their weary posture and there were dark bags under each of their eyes. Belgium was wearing the beige Belgian military uniform which had been refitted for a woman which seemed even duller next to France's shockingly blue coat.

I frowned with concern at the sight of Poland _not_ being at the meeting but there was nothing we could do about that. Belgium and France had been hit hard but it was nothing compared to what was happening over there.

Russia's head was tilted and his chin was buried in his pale scarf as he listened to England who was standing up in front. Canada, who was sitting next to me, was also listening intently, his eyes lighting up intelligently. England was standing with his side facing the other countries so he could both address them and continue adding to his diagram on the blackboard.

My eyes glazed over at the complicated map that probably made sense to everyone else but I couldn't make sense of it. The tapping of chalk was a constant in the room as England kept drawing. He'd drawn a diagram of Europe for the current meeting but I knew from before this current talk that there was a chalk drawing of the world on the blackboard's other side.

My eyes moved away from the sketch I couldn't understand and my mind began to wander until I accidently met Russia's violet eyes. I jumped silently at the realisation and when I saw him smile creepily. He might not have been trying to unnerve me but it sure felt that way.

"Do you want to say something, Britam?" Russia asked, disregarding England's talk.

All eyes fell on me and I felt my face redden under the attention. He'd called me Britam, short for Britamerica. I didn't travel much outside of the Americas since it would be such a long and probably unnecessary journey but now, whenever I came to Europe, I found more and more people were calling me that.

"N-no. I'm okay, the plan's okay." I muttered and I saw many expressions of annoyance as the attention went back off me.

"You've been awfully quiet, America." Canada whispered to me, "Don't forget to speak up if you have something to say." he reminded before looking back to England who'd started talking again. But I didn't add anything for the entire meeting. I didn't want people staring at me like that so at the moment I was happy being a wallflower.

Lately, I'd felt out of place in the little 'family' of France, me, Canada and England, like a little eleven year old trying to hang out with the tough sixteen year olds. England and Canada tried to convince me this wasn't the case but I didn't really believe them. I felt even more like the odd-one-out next to all these better countries. I just hoped my contribution was doing _something_ to our side of this war.

Once that talk had ended I found myself just wandering the building aimlessly. I didn't know what I was going to do until the day was over so I ended up in the bathroom of France's meeting hall, staring into the mirror for no reason whatsoever.

It seemed like everything in France was beautiful. The floor was made of tightly square black and white tiles while the dark maroon and gold mosaics on the wall only reached halfway, just barely peeking over the marble-topped counter and sink. There was a dark bar of wood lining the red and gold then above it there was pale pink wallpaper and the entire room glowed under the ceiling light's golden light that shone through the white lampshade that was decorated with intricate gold designs.

My hands were balled up and turning white as I leant on them. I brushed my blonde hair out of my eyes and smiled at my reflection, trying to build up some confidence but my eyes only seemed to see the problems. I knew I'd been happy all this time but the more I thought about it, the more I realised things had been going downhill for me personally.

I continued watching the mirror so it didn't surprise me when France came in. I saw his reflection's eyes widen at the sight of me but I turned around and smiled nonchalantly.

"Hey France." I greeted.

France smiled distantly and seemed to sway in the doorframe as if he was pondering whether or not to enter.

" _Ça va_?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm okay. You?"

He moved his head as if he'd been expecting there to be something on the counter but since there wasn't, he turned back to me, "Why are you 'ere, Britam?" France queried, ignoring my question.

I shrugged, "Nothing. Just, don't really have anything to do now."

France frowned, "Are you sure? Canada's getting worried about you, and I'm sure _Angleterre_ is as well. You didn't speak much in ze meeting and zen zere was zat moment wiz Russia..."

I shook my head insistently, "It's not like I could have said anything. I'm more of a soldier than any sort of planner to be honest."

France rested a hand on my shoulder but then I stiffened up. I spent most of the time with Canada or England so it felt kind of awkward being with France.

"You're strong _Amerique_. Neizer Canada or I want to see you look so defeated."

I met France's eyes, "I'll tell Canada not to worry." I said.

I make to walk out and leave France on his own but before I closed the door I glanced back and saw his face in the reflection. I saw him run his fingers through his shiny blonde hair and lean against the counter as if he needed the support. I was already shocked but then I saw small tears rolling down his weary face. I almost stopped to see whether I'd actually seen that but I didn't want France to know I'd seen him like that so I walked down the corridor with my hand pressed up against one side of my side, trying to get over what I'd just seen. I sighed and realised that this would not be easy in any way. I spent a while trying to find Canada in the vast house then I finally found him in one of the comfier rooms of the building.

But before I opened the door, I stopped. I wasn't much of a strategist and I wasn't a proper country like all the others but I wanted to help get this war over as soon as I could. _I'm one of the largest nations so why can't I work to be the hero_? I wondered.

America may not be as well organised as Canada but I believed we could do our part. It was the fourth largest country in the world so I knew we could, I swore we would, improve our army enough to defeat Germany, the Ottoman Empire and all the 'Central Powers'.

* * *

 **P.O.V England**

Three years…Three long bloody years but finally, _finally_ , it was over. But it sure was an auspicious day.

On Monday the twenty-eighth of January in the year 1918, we won. It had been three and a half years exactly but now it was all over. I wouldn't be the first to admit that without all the help we got the Entente would have lost but now with their Kaiser having fled the country Germany had no choice but to surrender to us.

I didn't really blame Russia for leaving the war but now the three main powers on our side, Britain, France and Canada, were left to decide Germany's fate.

It was arrogance that killed the dog in this instance. They'd simply gone too fast for their own good and from then on it was a downwards spiral as quick as a drill for them.

France was half-ecstatic and half-livid. He wanted Germany to suffer, that much was clear, but Canada and I were much more hesitant when it came to the details of the treaty.

Nothing could make up for the amount of lives every country had lost in this war, _nothing_ , but it hadn't only been the lives that had been damaged. Many of the once scenic French landscapes had been turned into battlefields and France wanted compensation for what he'd lost.

I could somewhat empathise but I had a bad feeling about demanding so much of someone who'd already lost so badly. My navy had been blocking off supply ships to Germany for a while now so I knew that they weren't exactly in the best shape currently but I knew I probably wasn't the most unbiased person to ask. Throughout the past three years I'd been haunted by the bittersweet memories of that Christmas. Nothing like it was allowed to happen again but that had been a great game of football.

As for Canada, since his forces had been fighting overseas he'd only lost money and soldiers. I could see that he didn't think reparations would fill that hole left in him.

Canada and I had less influence over the terms than France because we were both offshore to the fighting. France had been the most affected but it was strange to see _Canada_ of all people arguing with the frog.

However in the end we agreed with him. I came out of the meeting not feeling too happy about the amount of reparations but for a moment all of that concern drained out of my head as it dawned on me.

A smile wider than a pineapple began to form on my face. It was over! Needless to say, for the celebrations we went mad. All of us enjoyed one night of mindless fun while we all drank, talked, danced, sang and partied. The celebration was massive and had overwhelmed the streets since most of our allies had come out to join it. Personally, I preferred London but after the victory, Paris was fine enough.

France and Belgium were dancing together wildly and singing along to the French songs with a wine bottle in France's hands, Australia's cheering was slurred as an even more intoxicated partier was trying to drag him out of the River Seine while Veneziano Italy was drunkenly trying to flirt with New Zealand who he apparently thought was a woman.

Greece was petting a bunch of equally sleepy cats and not noticing America attempting to follow the French lyrics Canada was singing along with France and the others.

They weren't serving any good old ale like I'd hoped so I was a bottle of cider in my hands as I leant against one of the fences on one of the River Seine's bridges. The sun had already set for the night but the many lights from the buildings and streetlamps cast a golden glow that reflected off the shimmering water. Paris was covered in red, white and blue bunting that hung from house to house and pole to pole. Music rippled across the streets from the numerous machines blasting the melodies so I stood there watching Canada and America together with a proud look on my face.

Then later...well, I couldn't remember anything past that once I'd had more than a few drinks but from the embarrassing photographs France was showing off later on I saw that I'd been doing quite a few eccentric dances and making quite a bit of a prat out of myself but in every picture I saw a grin on my face. That was all I really cared about then. Plus, I had plenty of photos to release in revenge.

* * *

 **So it's a pretty short chapter for such a large part of history but it's the Second World War that's important in this story.**

 **Canada and 'Britam' have pretty much swapped places in the FACE family but at any rate, America's military has now grown but now there are the repercussions.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did I would love if you reviewed this! :D**


	7. The Spark

**P.O.V America**

I walked down the American street with a proud smile on my face and my hands in my pockets. Technically I didn't _need_ to eat, since I was a nation, but I still got hungry so I was out shopping that day.

After spending so much time in France I'd come home to find nothing edible in my fridge. All I had to eat was what I'd brought from the ship over here so I'd come back to the old town only a small way away from the house.

The town had changed a lot since the eighteenth century but the format was pretty much the same. There was still the long stretch with two story buildings packed together in two straight lines on either side. The first layer of each building was refitted to be a shop and large window panes spanned most of the wall to allow the passer-bys to look in on whatever they were selling.

The winter sun shone brightly as some sort of joke while the cold wind chilled the air around everyone. I dug my hands further into the pockets of my trousers, thinking happily that I wasn't further north like England or Canada at the moment. America was so large that it could get really hot or really cold but at the moment I was enjoying the middle.

Without Canada and Kumajirou to attract attention I quickly melted into the crowd running up and down the busy high street while I let myself get carried away by the tide. I weaved my way through the people when I reached the shop I'd intended.

The air was full of jubilance since the World War had ended and a lot of the American soldiers had made their way home but under a very thin surface anyone could have sensed the sadness underneath.

Like Canada, all we'd lost was money and...lives, good lives. The new regime of training had been America's best attempt to minimise their casualties but nothing was perfect. The losses weighed heavily on everyone's shoulders like a physical burden.

At least the war was now over and life could get better. I shuddered. The memories now flooding my brain weren't good in the slightest. They were awful. I didn't want that to happen again. I helped the others out but I didn't want to put my nation through that again.

I shook my head and dispelled the thoughts inside my head so I could complete the task I'd set out to do. I bought my food, it was nothing fancy since I wasn't a particularly able cook, then I hurried home. I only went to that town for convenience since England had built the house in a very isolated area. If it wasn't the only place I could walk to comfortably I wouldn't go at all. It had been centuries ago but I could still see the dark shadows left on the street where Michael had stormed off.

As soon as I reached the double doors of my house I kicked off my shoes and put all the food in the bags I'd been carrying away in the kitchen cupboards. I filled up the clear jug with water and made sure 'Sparkles' was still alive, if it had ever been actually there.

I paused in the hall and pressed my hand to my stomach. I was feeling pretty sick but I didn't think much of it. America had just faced quite a blow by participating so I'd been expecting something like this. But even still, this felt different to the type of illness I usually got.

Every year on the fourth of July, the anniversary of the biggest defeat I'd had to bear, I would wake up with a fever and not get up for the entire day so I knew what being ill was like but it wasn't like this. My stomach felt like it was churning internally, as if there was a swarm of moths milling about inside me.

I then put my hand to my head and staggered off to bedroom, feeling exhausted after travelling pretty much all day. I hoped that I'd start feeling better once I had some good sleep but when I woke up the next day, it was worse.

It was probably just the sickness making me feel dizzy but as the days passed I kept getting crazy thoughts in my head. As I stumbled down the staircase after a quick bought of light-headedness I chuckled aloud.

"If this continues maybe I'll be able to see Sparkles for once." I mutter to myself with a fake smile.

Then a week had passed and I hadn't got any better. Now I was worried. It felt so strange, like I was constantly anxious. I ended up sitting on the grass outside my house in an attempt to clear my head.

The warm sun shone on my head and I sat still. At first it was quiet but then the bird songs and rustling leaves became a melody that swum around the landscape, riding on the wind.

Everyone probably said this at some point in their lives but I really thought my nation was the best. It was a shame that it all belonged to England.

My eyes widened and I froze. The thought was as sudden and shocking as a slap. I hadn't thought about that sort of stuff for ages, I hadn't _let_ myself think about it.

I pushed myself to my feet and looked back to the house. The journey to Canada was a long one so the phone would have to do for now.

I half-ran to my living room where the telephone was but then I stopped dead with my hand rigidly hovering just a bit away from the dial. I bit my lip. _I can't just rely on him every single time I have a problem_ , I thought with a surprising amount of anger at myself.

 _Time to face the problem head on_. But I didn't move away from the shiny black phone mounted to my wall. Instead I just dialled a different number, hoping things wouldn't end out as bad as they did last time.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

England was too preoccupied to take a ship all the way to America and I didn't have much to do so I didn't object to coming to him instead of visa versa.

But things weren't like they usually were. The brief period of happiness after the World War ended had disappeared for everyone to deal with the fallout. Money was tight and goodness-knows that the reparations weren't enough to fix those problems.

France had had to take Germany's main industrial area to compensate for the fact that Germany wasn't paying him enough and everyone was having economic difficulties.

I walked into the hall of England's house and found a grumpy looking red-head and a brown-haired man sitting on one of the sofas and talking in hushed tones. For a second I tried to listen but their voices were too fast and quiet for me to understand.

The brown-haired man was a dead-ringer for England with the possible expression of him looking slightly more muscular since he played rugby more avidly than England but the other man wasn't dissimilar. He looked taller and stronger than the other as well as having a wash of red stubble. They shared the forest-green eyes of the British Isles countries and both were pale from the dreary weather that Britain was treated to eighty percent of the year.

Wales noticed me and abruptly stopped talking. He met my eyes and raised an eyebrow, "What're you doing here, mate?" he asked in a Welsh, low and melodious accent.

"I asked England if I could come over." I explained.

Scotland smirked. His broad shoulders moved gently as he chuckled to himself, "I don't know if he hates you or likes you for agreeing." Scotland pointed up the stairs leading off the hall, "He's up in his office. You can knock but he probably won't answer." he said bluntly.

I frowned but then quickly ascended the staircase, resisting the urge to glance back and eavesdrop on whatever the two were talking about.

England's house was in very good condition despite the old style of the building. It looked Victorian but was full of modern furniture and property to fit the current era.

The stairs led into another room with doors on each wall. Painting and photos were hung up, mostly portraits of famous Englishmen like William Shakespeare, and there was a large flower pot containing red roses in each corner.

England's office was made very prominent from the large piece of paper taped to the door that read 'Do not disturb unless urgent' then surprisingly underneath, ' _Ti hefyd, Cymru_ *'. England must have been having some trouble with his brothers.

I rapped on the wood cautiously and waited for a response. The one I got was cross and impatient.

"Scotland, can't you read the sign?" England snapped.

I stepped backwards, "It's me, England." I called nervously. One second. Five seconds. Ten seconds. I had to wait a bit before England opened the door.

He looked at me apologetically but looked very busy from what I could see. Stacks of paper were lined across the room in a haphazardly way of tidying up and there were several cups of tea on this desk, both steaming and empty.

"Woah." I couldn't supress my surprise, "You okay, England?"

His eyes widened but then he nodded quickly, "Sure. Sorry for my reaction, I'm just…" England sighed, "Just having to deal with some things." he glanced back inside the room worriedly.

"Such as…?" I prompted.

"Money, voting…Ireland." he added tiredly.

"Huh? What's wrong with Ireland?"

"He's just acting odd. It's actually quite worrying, likes he's become two people. Sometimes he's completely normal and acting civil but then other times he…he's obsessed with leaving the United Kingdom."

My eyes went wide and I stepped back again, "What? Why would he be upset about being in the UK? I thought you guys didn't fight anymore."

England laughed dryly but stopped quickly as his eyes became sad, "Brother's like mine will always fight but this time it's worse. I'm not proud but I can't just let him get away with this!" I sensed that he had some pent-up anger and I noticed he glanced down at the stairs when he spoke.

England looked back to me, "Sorry." he said again, "It's just a lot to deal with at the moment. I'd love to go to the pub tonight if you want to catch up over a pint...or two." England added inaudibly.

"O-of course." I stuttered before I could interject with my own problem. I knew it wasn't the right time. I wanted him to sort out all of his problems before I told him mine.

England smiled in relief, "Great! Can you just wait a tic for me to finish this paperwork. You can chat with Wales and Scotland until I'm done, I'll only be five minutes or so, then we can go into town."

I saw him rush inside then the door closed in my face but I smile. Maybe spending the night with England will get rid of the...silly...thoughts in my head.

I spun around and walked back down the stairs to where the two other Brits had been sitting but then I realised they'd been listening in on us.

Wales tried to hide this fact by hurriedly starting up another conversation with Scotland but it was too little too late.

"And so that's why I think the red dragon is a better national animal than the unicorn." Wales suddenly invented but then Scotland glanced at me and sighed.

"It doesn't look like he's fooled, Wales."

His brother nodded defeatedly and met my eyes, "It's nice you're going out with _Lloegr_ **. If he didn't take a break soon I was sure he'd snap."

I frowned, "What about you two, are you guys helping him? Is _that_ why you're in England rather than at your own places?"

Scotland shrugged, "Sort of. He wanted control over us so we can't run ourselves internally without national parliaments. Usually it ticks me off but at times like these it's nice to see him hafta deal with the work."

I felt almost scandalised. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be so mean to their brothers. But it wasn't as if I'd _ever_ understood other countries.

"So when're you guys leaving?" Scotland queried.

"Once he's done."

Wales nodded, " _Da iddo fe_ ~."

Scotland and I looked at him blankly.

"Dah ido ve?" I repeated but then Wales' expression turned to annoyance.

"Damn Welsh Not." Wales muttered but then he smirked at me, "I thought you'd pay your namesake's home more respect."

"I bet he's got as much respect for other languages as his brother." Scotland chuckled.

"Canada?"

Scotland rolled his eyes, "England, duh." but then he met my eyes with an oddly searching look, "What's the matter, America?"

I shook my head nonchalantly but there was a sudden fear in my eyes, "Nothing."

Wales gave me the same analysing gaze, "Are you ill or something?"

I was ready to deny everything but I saw strange concern in their eyes. It's not only strange because I'd barely ever talked to them beforehand but also because if I just looked at their eyes they seemed just like England.

"Why?" I asked shortly.

Scotland's face darkened, "Because it indicates there's something wrong with the country. I could be nothing but it could be..."

"You ready to go, America?"

The three of us spun around to see England walking down the stairs, he was smiling at me. I agreed quickly and only spared a passing glance back at England's two brothers as I was shepherded out of the hall with England.

Like his house in America, England's home was built in an isolated place so we were going to drive into the nearest city. Considering what we were going out to do, we probably should have gone by alternative travel but I figured we'd cross that bridge when he got there.

Most of the journey was spent with England chuckling about how jumpy I was when we drove on British roads since I was half-way expecting us to crash but it felt nice to keep him happy.

I could already see England looking happier but I really wished the same could be said for me, being around the older country only made the sickness in my stomach worse. I tried ignoring it, and after I'd had a few I could, but I couldn't help but wonder why on earth I was feeling this way.

My mind wandered to the ominous words the two other Brits had left me. I wondered what was going on with Ireland but then it hit me. Canada had once said to me that as the embodiment of my country I would like what the majority likes and hates what the majority hates.

I glanced at a _very_ drunk England who was having a full-blown slurred conversation with thin air while he rested on the round table in the pub we were in, his face red. I listened to him discuss random things in Shakespearean English to some sort of fairy who was apparently called Martin.

I wanted to smile at the odd sight and laugh at my guardian's lack of composure so we could look fondly back on this memory but I felt anger, like I was a prisoner staring at a prison guard.

 _Why_? I thought frustratedly as I had to look away.

* * *

 ***Ti hefyd, Cymru (Tee hevid, Kumree) – You too, Wales**

 ****Lloegr (Shloigur) – England**

 **~Da iddo fe (Da ido ve) – Good for him**

* * *

 _ **It may only be a small spark but, then again, it only took an ember to burn down London.**_

 **I hoped you enjoyed this (ominous) chapter and if you liked it then I'd appreciate any reviews! :D**

 **And since I was an idiot and forgot to do this at the 5th Chapter mark, I'll do it now.**

 **I really love all you guys who've followed and favourited this fic! A _massive_ thanks to:**

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 **You guys are awesome! - Rydych chi'n anhygoel!**


	8. No

**P.O.V England**

Damn. Damn! DAMN! Why!? Why the hell did this happen _again_!? That bloody kraut and those bloody Axis Powers!

I didn't what to do this. I didn't want to have to put my country through _another_ bloody war after the last war ended so terribly. We'd warned them. We'd put up with the Austria thing because we didn't want another war. We'd had to put up with the Czechoslovakia thing so Hitler would stop but now we had to fulfil our promise to Poland. This was war.

Russia wasn't going to help because of the agreement he'd made with Germany but I wasn't too sure of him at the moment. The promise had been not to attack each other. Did that mean Russia would fight on the Axis side?

I pushed that thought out of the forefront of my mind. Ireland wasn't going to help but her brother; Northern Ireland would along with Wales and Scotland, but as I'd definitely learnt from the last conflict the United Kingdom couldn't do this alone.

France and I'd have to ask Canada, America and the others to help as they'd done beforehand. France was terrified that Germany would become aggressive towards him and invade France as he was doing Poland so we had to take action soon.

It had been awful for all of us but I didn't want Axis to conquer Europe. They were the aggressors in this so it was up to us to defend ourselves.

It felt like only a short while ago since I'd paced in front of the telephone as I was doing now. Canada was such a caring young man that I knew having to fight in a war on such a scale had really affected him and when it came to America...

He wasn't hard to read in a stoic way like Sweden or in a 'stiff upper-lip' way like me but he wasn't quite the exuberant boy he'd been anymore. Wales had mentioned something about that offhandedly a while back but I'd been pretty busy for a long time so I'd forgotten what he'd exactly said about it.

But I picked up the receiver anyway. The Axis had to be stopped before things could get even worse than they already were. I'd already had Japan turn on me; I needed to know who my true allies were.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

I may have been run by England but America didn't really get the news as fast as it could have since we weren't a major power. However that didn't stop it reaching us eventually. The rumblings of war had already been spreading from person to person more similarly to a wildfire than just gossip.

I could feel the panic underlying everyone since the rumours had started so I could barely contain my fear as the ringing of my phone began. I jumped and spilt my tea over the low sofa. I hurriedly scrubbed the cushion with the bottom of my shirt before rushing over to the phone.

"Maybe someone's phoning to tell it was all a hoax...Yeah, that'll be it." I murmured half-heartedly before answering, "Hello?"

"Hello, America." England's voice sounded mechanical and forced. There was a longer pause than usual so I spoke up.

"You okay, England?"

"America." England said, ignoring my question and getting straight to the point, "I'm afraid that Germany has invaded Poland so France and I are declaring war on him. We need you to join us."

I wondered if I would have been more shocked if he'd _tried_ to sugar-coat it. I shouldn't have been surprised considering the type of person England was but I still heard my breath cut short.

"W-what?!" I stuttered, "Please tell me you're joking."

"America." I could practically see his scolding frown, "You know I wouldn't joke about something as serious as this. France is working this out with Canada as we speak but I wanted to consult you. Without your help in the Great War I believe the Allies would have lost. That's why we need you now as well. If we can attack the Axis Powers quickly then this war may be able to end before it becomes out-of-hand."

England waited patiently for my response since he couldn't see my face over the phone.

My eyes were wide, my irises shrank and my eyebrows were furrowed. My mouth was gaping and my hands began to shake as my mind was bombarded by the awful images. Other countries were more used to the horrendous things that happened in war because they'd spent hundreds of years being exposed to it but nations like Canada and I had been quite sheltered from things like that up until the Great War.

 _I don't want to do that_ , I thought with fear. _I don't want to do this all over again_! These thoughts flooded every bit of my being until I just wasn't breathing anymore and I was frozen in place.

But then I managed to move. My jaw was still locked shut but I didn't need it. I didn't need it to slam down the phone. I felt trapped inside my own head but maybe it was for the better to be that way. I wasn't going to get involved in this. I wouldn't let my people get hurt again.

* * *

 **P.O.V England**

I stared in horror as the phone. There was nothing but a quiet coming from it but it wasn't a silence I allowed for long.

I put the phone down and glanced at the door to the other room where France was. Once again we were the grudging allies but that was unimportant at the moment. Something must have been wrong with America and I needed to find out what. I walked over and knocked loudly on the Frenchman's door.

"France? France, I need to speak to Canada." I called through the door. I heard something too quick to decipher but then I caught a part of it.

" _Oui, c'est Angleterre...Il veut parler pour te…Ben, au revoir._ " Then I heard him raise his voice to speak to me, " _Angleterre_. 'E can speak wiz you now."

I rolled my eyes; sometimes just hearing him speak was enough to annoy me. I opened the door and saw him holding up the receiver of the telephone mounted to the wall.

I snatched the phone away from him and made sure he was out of the room before beginning, "Hello, Canada. What did France say exactly?"

There was some rustling and I imagined Canada twirling the phone cord around his finger, "He told me aboot Axis and Poland's invasion. And that you two need America and me to help you guys oot like we did before."

"Yes." I agreed grimly, "But the problem is that when I called America he hung up on my before I could get a response. I can't properly formulate my tactics without first gauging how much firepower and troops we have so I was hoping you could get him to come over."

"Oh. I don't know why America would do that. He's been feeling under the weather lately so maybe that's it. I was hoping things wouldn't get more complicated than they already are but..." he sighed, "I'll visit him. We can come over to Europe together."

I nodded appreciatively then remembered I was on the phone, "Thank you. However, I want you to bring him even if he _is_ poorly. I can't afford to enter this unsupported."

Canada made a small disapproving noise but I didn't read too much into it. I'd learnt long ago that no single action will be unanimous. I'd become used to people not agreeing with my decisions.

"Okay." Canada said shortly so I put down the phone and turned away to face the door. I found a small scowl on my face. I could attribute most of my anger towards the circumstance but I was getting quite cross at America lately. I knew he was somewhat avoiding me and I wanted to find out what was the matter with him. Now was certainly not the time for me to have to deal with his moods.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

Canada had asked to meet me in one of the towns that crossed the border, a place named Stanstead, but I knew perfectly well why. Choosing not to choose is never the right option so I knew England wanted me to give him an answer.

He walked up to me with a comforting smile as he greeted me but the corners of my lips stayed stubbornly unmoving and straight.

"Hello, Canada."

"Hey, America. How are you?" he said happily, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn't buying it.

"Why did England send you here?" I asked grimly, unwilling to let this drag on.

Canada took a step back and he furrowed his eyebrows, "He didn't..." he started weakly but my gaze bored into him, "England is worried aboot you. He didn't know what why you hung up so he wanted me to check up on you."

I scoffed. It was a harsh sound that sounded completely alien coming out of my mouth. I avoided his eyes in an attempt not to direct my anger at him but I was glaring at the ground, "I know what he wants but _please_ understand: I don't want to do this. I don't have to go, Europe's not my problem, so I'm not going to put anyone in America through that again."

"America, we promised to help England and France. We can't just let them do this alone." Canada insisted.

"England made you promise. You don't have to go to war and face that again, you know. We're thousands of miles away from the fighting after all."

Canada shook his head, "I can't. I would help them even if I wasn't a part of the Commonwealth. France and England took care of me, we can't just abandon them."

I paused, "You're right. It's not like I have any choice. First sign of trouble I'll be forced to come and fight."

He frowned disapprovingly, "Come on. You know that won't be true."

I could see the doubt in his violet eyes. I smiled mechanically. It wasn't as if I was grinning, it was as if some machine was merely pulling up my lips.

"Okay then." I said. Canada's expression turned anxious at the sound of my hollowly happy tone so I quickly stop guiltily. The phrase 'don't shoot the messenger' was something I'd had to repeat in my head whenever Canada spoke on the behalf of England. I loved Canada but I was just so angry at England and this damn war.

There was an uneasy silence between us.

Canada spoke quietly, "Um, America. England wants to speak with you in person." It wasn't a surprise to me. I knew he was going to have to play this passive-aggressively if he wanted to sustain his reputation to the other countries. I knew this was going to mean heavy use of Canada.

I sighed silently, "Fine. I'll talk with him."

Canada gave a quick cautious look but looked defeated. My heart panged again so I smiled, naturally this time, "Fine." I said with more enthusiasm. I didn't _want_ to go but, like I'd said, we didn't have much of a choice.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

It was always a long trip to Europe but this time it was infinitely longer. Not only was I second-guessing my decision every single mile we passed but there was also the tension between Canada and I. I hated it whenever things turned sour between us, accidentally or not , but this situation was especially difficult to fix.

This was something I was going to have to put my foot down on, even if it meant travelling all the way to England just to say that to the 'gentleman's' face. I couldn't go to war again, especially since it had nothing to do with me. All I needed to do now is convince Canada of that fact so he too could be safe.

 _But I don't really have to worry about him_ , I thought with a sigh, _Canada's a full country after all_. It was those types of thoughts that swam around my head until I finally got off the boat.

The look on England's face when he saw the two of us together was something like relief but I didn't let myself be gratified by this. I breathed deeply. England may be in a tight spot right now but I knew he was a reasonable nation.

There was only France and England in the conference room at the time since Poland, Nepal and the other countries England invited weren't there yet. Canada greeted the both of them with a smile and a hello in their respective languages while I stayed back, hovering at the threshold.

I had trust in my feelings, they were the wishes of my people after all. I would fight for them so they wouldn't have to fight. I wasn't going to be England's attack dog.

"Zank goodness you're 'ere." France said, addressing both of us, "We need to sort out our plans soon if zis is going to work at all. _Ça va, Amerique_? _Angleterre_ was razer worried when you were cut short like zat."

My expression steeled. I didn't reply because I instead turned my head to meet England's eyes.

He arched an eyebrow at me, "Are you going to answer the frog's question or are you going to continue staring at me?"

My fists clenched. No-one noticed because they were all looking to my face which was failing to keep emotionless.

"England. I came here to tell in person, that I'm _not_ going to do this. I hung up on you because I didn't want to tell you over the phone."

"What?!" was the cry from all three countries the room.

"A-America..." Canada started but England was quick to cut him off.

"No, Canada. I can deal with this." England met my eyes, "America, why would you travel all this way just to tell me that personally? I thought you were past this childishness."

"I'm not being 'childish', I just don't want my country to get hurt for something that doesn't concern it all because you can't get off your high horse, stop getting involved in everything and dragging us into it just because _you_ can't admit your empire is dead!"

His eyes sparked dangerously but his expression was completely condescending. It was the expression a parent gives a child who's camping in the back garden and calling it 'running away'.

"Unlike you I don't want to allow other countries to be attacked. But if you don't feel like the matters of other countries concerns you then let me say this: How would you feel when they eventually come for you? How would you feel if every single person who'd promised to help you turned their backs when you were being ruthlessly invaded?" England's tone was calm but held such power that managed to make a monotone threatening.

I didn't talk for moment while I collected my thoughts but that was the only response England needed.

"Exactly. Britam, like it or not you are an important nation and a large one at that. I need you to help us and stop the Axis powers before they become even more dangerous. We're already fighting but it won't be enough as it is."

I growled, "It's not like I'm the only one who's under you."

"But you're one of the most powerful. It would be impossible to do this without you."

It was funny. I would have killed to hear him admit that I was better than him in some way but now it only increased my loathing. I felt like some sort of puppet.

I let out some sort of a frustrated noise before I scowled, "You've done it before. I'm going back to America and I'm not going to come back, not until you no longer require my army."

"America, you can't." Canada said timidly but England shot him a glare.

"Britam, you must help us. Your government is my government. If I declare war, _you_ declare war. I thought you understood that. It's not a difficult thing for even the most idiotic of minds to wrap their heads around so I assumed you'd be able to get it one of these days." England said scathingly.

" _Angleterre_..." France began, starting to feel nervous about the rapidly changing atmosphere.

"Shut it, frog!" England snapped. He tore his gaze away from France and gave an apologetic look to Canada. His expression then hardened and even though he didn't meet my eyes I could tell his words were directed at me, "Go. But do so with this warning: This war will affect us all and I'm not going to be fighting a war on two fronts."

Canada's eyes widened in shock so England looked away from even him, he was staring at anything but our eyes.

I stepped backwards. _What is he going to do_? I thought worriedly but I refused to let it show on my face. I too avoided eye contact with any of them. The two French-speakers were standing like statues, forced into stillness by their shock. France looked as if he couldn't believe what England had done while Canada's eyes flickered from the Englishman to me, as if he was unable to decide who he was more horrified at.

I left without saying another word, slamming the door shut after me. _What was England gonna do_? _Was did he mean by a war on two fronts_?

* * *

 **Do you ever look through the traffic graph's list of countries and start feeling as if the characters are reading your fic? Because if so I'm surprised that China, Germany and Australia would enjoy this XD**

 **This marks the start of the Second World War. The Commonwealth, Britain and the others have declared war against the Axis Powers.**

 **Too bad Britamerica won't be able to pull off neutrality as well as Switzerland and Liechtenstein.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did I'd love if you review! :D**


	9. Internal Turmoil

**P.O.V America**

Even in with my eyes closed I knew that things were not right. I lay on my back but my stomach felt tight. Now I knew what England's words had meant.

'I'm not going to fight a war on two fronts'. He was right. The way he was playing it at the moment meant that this wasn't going to be a war at all. England had so much control over me that I couldn't call myself much of a challenge for the British Empire.

He controlled my military, he controlled our money and he controlled all the food. I smirked at myself. Goodness I was an idiot, getting into a battle like this completely unprepared.

I didn't have much influence over America. Unlike England and the others who worked very closely with their bosses I hadn't revealed my identity to the American minister because there was no point. England had always been more interested in America and controlled it much more closely than all his other colonies because I was 'more important so our minister didn't actually have that much power. I was the same.

The Americans had protested the involvement in the war so in relation to both that and my own actions England had begun our punishment.

Higher taxes, less of our produce allowed for us to keep, even freedoms such as the press. While the fighting continued in Europe England would call me weekly. Every time I refused to join the war he knew the people would be the ones refusing, asking me was a quick way to see the general opinions, so every time he would increase these measures.

Canada was pleading with me to stop refusing him but I knew I wouldn't be giving up any time soon. He wanted England to stop this but he was equally insistent. India, Australia, New Zealand and Canada were fighting with the Allies so I had no idea why he was so furious at my 'abandonment'.

England's excuse was that since he was at war he needed to control his resources. Total War meant that a country stops funding anything that doesn't contribute to the war effort and even though it hadn't reached that point he'd already begun the initiative with the colonies. The ones fighting or the ones that weren't involved were doing fine but because of the protests America was getting the short end.

For a while I considered the idea of joining the Axis Powers to spite England but I knew that wouldn't work. Not only would that mean fighting against Canada it would also mean joining the war after all but I just couldn't do that with England controlling my government. It would probably be my plan B if England kept this up for much longer, which I doubted he would. He could only do this for so long before Canada started to do something.

The birdsong that fluttered in though the open window sounded gloomy to me but that was probably only me reflecting my feelings onto the world around me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, finally having enough of my thoughts. My dark blue jacket fell off me onto the dark green carpet around me.

I hated this house and all of England's stuff inside it so I wasn't sleeping in my bedroom anymore but since it was a choice between the house and the street I'd resigned myself to sleeping on the living room floor with a jacket as a blanket and a cushion as a pillow.

I hadn't really minded it since I slept like a log anyways but my stomach was still growling at me like a ticked off cat. My queasiness had come from conflict so being able to shout at England helped me but it was only replaced with this.

The rationing in Britain had started and so it was enforced here but we weren't taking it with nearly as many grudging smiles. I had a bad habit of staying in bed whenever I felt under the weather but I forced myself up anyway.

I pushed with my hand on the sofa next to me and staggered to my feet. I blinked sleepily around the room as it was filled with a pleasant glow from the sun shining on the drawn curtains. The golden glow covered everything in the room from the table to the high backed chairs to the plush sofa.

I looked down at myself and frowned. I'd slept in my clothes unwittingly last night. I sighed and ran a hand through my blonde hair as I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember my plans.

My head lolled forwards as I finally remembered. I hurriedly threw open the curtains and then walked out of the living room, not bothering to pick the cushion off the floor. I may have lived there but I'd always considered it England's house so leaving it messy allowed me some protest.

I passed the hall and entered the kitchen, keeping my eyes locked straight ahead so I didn't look at any of the paintings on the wall. They were all of Britain or of the British Empire but I hadn't got rid of them because no-one but me came here anymore, I had to go out into town to sort out anything.

I wasn't much of a cook and I wanted to get out as soon as I could so I quickly grabbed a cup on the counter and ran the tap. I gulped down the metallic-tasting water and tossed the mug in the sink. I threw on the ruffled blue jacket with a slice of bread between my teeth then powerwalked out of the room.

I strode into the hall but paused before I could reach the door. I patted my pockets for my keys but as they felt around my jacket blindly my eyes found the small ceramic bowl sitting on the floor next to the door.

I gritted my teeth. England had accused me if childishness yet he'd always insisted on keeping up that farce. I had too but I just didn't care anymore. If Sparkles existed or he didn't, it wasn't my problem regardless.

I glanced down at my hands and froze. I'd dug the cards out of my jacket instead of the keys and I'd been shuffling them absentmindedly as I always did whenever I was deep in thought.

They were worn from years of handling but the pictures were still clear. I couldn't believe I hadn't lost of broken the deck yet. I sighed and crouched down. I picked up the dry bowl and placed both it and the cards on the small wooden table in the corner of the hall.

I fished out my keys and quickly exited the house, eager to get out of there. If I just needed to get some food then I'd walk to the town nearby since it was only a short walk but all I wanted to do was get out for the day so I'd planned to take the long journey to the city. It was more than an hour's walk from the house but that was what I liked about it.

I wasn't walking particularly fast, I was simply strolling through the small patches of nature until I reached the main road.

The sun spotted the earth as the light shone through the tree leaves above me and my steps sounded loudly as the dry leaves beneath me crunched. We'd been experiencing sunny weather so the air around me was pleasantly warm. The breeze was perfectly cool and stopped me from getting too hot but it ended up that way after about an hour.

I wasn't tired since I was pretty strong but soon my coat was off, my sleeves were rolled up as were the legs of my trousers so I was looking pretty odd by the time I'd reached a settlement. I liked walking alongside the tarmac as I walked because I found the droning of the passing cars relaxing in a funny way. Every so often I'd pick up any of the rubbish I spotted on my way there and kept my eye out for any bins I passed. It may have belonged to England but unlike the house I wasn't going to allow America to be messed up.

As soon as I unloaded all the rubbish into the nearest bin I began strolling through the city. I saw a few promotional posters trying to persuade the Americans to join the war but there were obvious signs of vandalism and some being torn down. It wasn't really surprising since the hatred for the British was still very clear.

The city was very busy since it was about one in the afternoon on a lovely day so there were a lot of people and cars bustling about so I didn't stop in the middle of the street to stare at the posters. However, they were seemingly everywhere in the city and I spotted them mostly on bus stops and advertising boards. I noticed that people often gave them looks of contempt as they passed the 'motivational propaganda'.

It was now midday so I popped into one of the open cafes but sadly that number was surprisingly few for a city, even a small one. Many things had had to be closed down because of the tight economy that Britain was enforcing on us and as I sat down and ate I could hear their anger. The indecipherable buzz of everyone talking surrounded me but every so often I made out some of the conversations.

There was a pair of middle-aged women sitting around the table behind me who were speaking to each other very loudly and passionately. I glanced around once out of curiosity and saw a woman with white blonde hair tucked into a ponytail and hands donned with many bracelets that clattered together as she used a lot of hand gestures and discussed the British Empire to the friend opposite to her with clearly-dyed auburn hair.

"And now we're all suffering just because the bastards at the top won't man up and spit in the Brits' faces. I don't want them to put my husband at risk just because they started this silly war in Europe." she began speaking in a hushed voice but didn't seem to lower her volume at all, as if she was performing a stage whisper, "It's because they're all puppets, you know. They're all in pockets of the British, at least the ones in control. Oh, I'm sure they all are 'looking out for the Americans' but when push comes to shove all they're going to care about are themselves."

Her friend sighed, "Surely that can't be true. I mean, no-one's been forced to go overseas yet. If we can keep this up then we'll never have to get involved."

The first woman tutted, "For now. We _all_ know that it'll only be a short while before the conscriptions start and there's nothing we'll be able to do about that, you see."

"Excuse me, sir."

I looked up at the waiter with wide eyes at the sudden break of my conversation but then blushed as I realised he'd been gesturing to my long since cleared plate.

I smiled sheepishly, "Oh, yeah. Thanks for that. It was great."

The waiter smiled back and picked up my plates but before he turned away to put the plates in the back, his eyes fixated on something across the street. I followed his gaze and found he was staring at the notice stuck on one of the closed down businesses.

"It's a shame. People would probably have started helping if they hadn't been so pushy about it." he noted sadly.

I raised an eyebrow and gave the waiter an odd look, "You really think so?"

"Yeah. You can only sit by and watch for so long, or at least that's what I like to think." but then he sighed, "But with America in the state it is I don't think it's gonna be that way any time soon."

I didn't really have anything to say to that. I'd never wanted to put my people at risk again but maybe things could have been different.

I got out my wallet and paid for the meal. The waiter accepted and then took the plate away. I glanced in his direction for a moment before going back into the busy streets.

I had a bit more shopping to do before I started the journey back home so I ventured further into the city, trying to avoid any signs that would make me start feeling sorry for England again.

 _I wonder how Canada's doing_...I shook my head. I hated being apart from him so long, especially under such hostile circumstances but I knew what my priorities were. When England called I was going to try sort this out and have him stop punishing America like this.

I didn't have a lot of cash with me but it was enough for me to buy the necessities for the day. I couldn't buy as much as I wanted anyway because of the restrictions being imposed on all of us.

I was at the till when all of a sudden everyone's heads turned to the windows at the front of the shop. We'd been drawn to the sound of a sudden shout that was furious enough to be heard even through the city jumble so many people looked around curiously to find the source.

I glanced around in an attempt to identify the shouter but I was too late. My eyes hadn't even fallen on the right people before another sound bombarded my eardrums and sent many of the customers' hands to their ears.

It was the sound of shattering glass and a massive crack. The basket dropped out of my hand and I dashed outside as a massive sense of dread began coursing through me. More blasts began, becoming more frequent as time ran on and when I got outside I knew why.

There was a literal mob outside smashing all the windows of the shops. I could see they were mostly targeting the closed ones but screams filled the city as many customers and shopkeepers fled. They were a massive group of people wielding bricks or other heavy objects to smash any panes or cars that they passed. It was terrifying but now I knew where the dread had come from. This had been so sudden that I knew it wasn't spur of the moment. This was organised chaos.

Angry cries replaced the hustle-bustle and soon it felt like a full-scale riot. I saw many people were brandishing cardboards signs bearing anti-war and anti-British sentiments but all I think most people saw was aggression. Someone had even set a British flag on fire and left it burning on top of a road sign.

 _What on earth is this_? I thought, panicked. I looked around and tried standing against the tsunami of people trying to evade the violence. People were running and exiting their cars in the hurriedly-converted pedestrian zone the mob had created.

With the fire and cries enveloping the street I felt like I was in hell, not my home. Red light reflected in a shattered way as it bounced off the sea of glass shards raining down on the pavement near the shops and it wasn't long before alarms joined the pandemonium.

 _Damn, damn, damn, damn_ , I repeated in my head as I debated what to do. I couldn't fight a crowd alone and I certainly wasn't going to run so I was frozen in indecision until someone slammed into me.

"Get out of the way!" that person had yelled at me, not caring that they'd shoved me to floor. I skidded across the rough tarmac and it felt like something had stung me. I hurriedly glanced at my arm and saw that there was a shard of glass sticking out of the skin. I had to tear it out and hope that no-one would notice my rapid healing but there wasn't much chance of that as the people kept running.

They kept kicking me as they ran like a tidal wave of stampeding horses. I tried getting up but I couldn't get regain my balance amidst such panic. I was thrown back onto the glass-covered pavement again and I gritted my teeth. I clenched my jaw and scrambled to my feet.

I tried shouting but my voice was torn apart by the chaos so not even the people around me managed to hear. I ploughed forwards against the crowd and found many of the fleeing crowd giving me incredulous or angry looks.

"Stop this!" I yelled but no-one took notice. There was an awful amount of damage now. The cars parked in front of me were all dented and some had even been turned on their sides.

The cries of the mob had begun to from comprehensible shouts now. I heard the fury in their voice and even though it was one I identified with all I felt was the fear for all the people being hurt.

There was a collective jump as a gunfire blasted through the hoards of noise and a silence rippled throughout the street. It didn't last for long but the sudden vacuum allowed some voices to make themselves heard.

I turned to see them and saw a group of people dressed in black and blue holding up megaphones and bellowing at the crowd in tinny and robotic voices that made them seem more like machines than police officers.

"Cease and desist at once! Drop your weapons and disperse immediately or we will have no choice but to use force!" the policemen warned in unison to be heard among the revived clatter.

One of the uniformed men was holding the pistol he'd used to silence the crowd for that brief moment in his hand threatening but kept it pointing at the sky while the others looked unarmed in the firearms department.

The mob, of course, responded not with obedience but with more aggression expect now it had a target. I rushed forwards but still had no idea what to do. I wanted to side with the police and stop the riot but knew that was going to be impossible.

I somehow battled my way through the raging ocean of protesters so I was now standing close to where the ten or so PCs* were having to bat away the projectiles being thrown at them.

"Guys! C'mon! You've gotta stop!" I shouted but this time I was unfortunately heard. I got a disgusted look of the woman standing near to me and received a punch in retaliation.

"Down with the Empire!" she roared with the crowd, "Free America!"

I ran away from her, my blue eyes now wide in confusion and fear, then edged my way closer to the police.

"Stop this at once!" the police insisted with an unmistakable terror in their voices, "Or we will have no choice but to shoot!"

Adrenaline shot through me. I couldn't believe what was happening. I had to stop this at any cause. Everything felt like slow motion, which was odd considering how fast time usually went for me, but I surged forwards as if I was a mother bird diving to protect her children.

There was a bang and it was then I realised I was too late. A policeman had been aiming at one of the protester that was brandishing a bread-sized rock as if he was about to throw it. I knew it wouldn't work but I sprinted with the assurance I wouldn't die. My movements were being filled with the fierce protectiveness only a country could have for its people.

Even if it was just one person...Even if I'd be in danger. _Maybe this'll finally convince England_ , I thought ludicrously right before the bullet ripped through the air with a sound like thunder resonating through the street after it and crashed into me.

It knocked the life out of me immediately and all I saw was black as my eyes clenched shut in pain as my final action.

* * *

Reporter _: There were numerous riots across the country today as protesters began a unanimous attack in cities in almost every city. The police are currently believing this to be the work of an organisation and hundreds of arrests have been made but we also give our condolences to the families of the four officers killed in the protesters after being attacked with projectiles such as bricks and rocks._

 _There may be other casualties but it is unclear at the moment what the actual numbers are. Many cities were left being attacked after the police force was expended beyond its capabilities and had to retreat from several areas where back-up was not able to reach._

 _Please stay by for more information as it comes._

* * *

 ***Police constable, not the computer**

* * *

 **The Americans weren't going to take this lying down so now they're choosing to fight it.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did or didn't I'd appreciate if you review! :D**


	10. The Time Of Realisation

**P.O.V America**

To my surprise I woke up in a hospital. Because of my sped-up healing and immortality I'd never really been to one before so it was all new to me.

The room I was in felt very sterile and the wallpaper, though blue, was still very close to white. I was lying under thin sheets which didn't do much in the way of comfort of warmth but since the radiator on the wall seemed to be turned on, this wasn't a problem. I looked to my left and saw a heart monitor beeping. The metallic noise was constant and steady so I felt relieved at knowing things were all right in that sense.

I wasn't wearing my shirt or jacket anymore, they were neatly folded over a nearby chair's back, but there was a long white bandage wrapped around my right collarbone and under my arm. I lifted an arm tentatively to my neck but found no pain when I touched it. It must have healed completely after they took the bullet out.

I'd participated in every war America had ever fought so of course I'd received plenty of injuries but I knew from experience that only the symbolic scars stayed. My nose would probably always be broken but I guessed that underneath the bandages my skin would be completely unblemished, but for the sake of disguise I couldn't reveal that fact too soon.

I glanced around for any other personnel but my small hospital room was void of anyone but me. I needed to get _someone's_ attention so I could get out of here but, like I'd just realised, there was no-one around.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I called in a clear voice, sounding absolutely fine to my delight. After the fourth I never liked any recovery taking too long.

Then someone walked in. The door had been closed so she must have been waiting outside it for whatever reason.

Her strawberry-blonde hair was wavy and pulled back into a high ponytail like a traditional cheerleader. In fact, that was the sort of image I got from her. Her skin was rosy and her brown eyes were fairly large and made-up. She was wearing a white blouse that had its sleeves rolled up halfway up her biceps and tucked into a knee-length pleated red skirt. Her tights and shoes were black and she had a thin leather watch around her left wrist.

She wasn't very tall or thin but she stood up in a straight and strong way that vaguely reminded me of soldier being called to attention. She was looking slightly up at me so her chin was raised as she spoke.

"You shouldn't be awake yet." her voice wasn't suspicious, thankfully it was only concerned.

I frowned at her in confusion, "Are you a nurse or a…" I asked open-endedly, hoping the woman would fill in the blanks for me.

The woman shook her head, "I don't work here. I was just waiting for you to wake up."

The confusion on my face only strengthened. I wondered aloud why on earth she'd be waiting for me when I didn't even know her but her answer still felt peculiar.

"I'm the one who brought you here when you were shot. My brother and I couldn't just _abandon_ you so we left. But he had to go home to tell our dad what had happened." she closed her eyes but I could tell just from her face that she was scared, "We'll get in trouble but if you weren't there things could have been a lot worse."

She opened her wide eyes again and extended her hand, "I'm Amelia, Amelia Banister. You?"

I didn't shake her hand. I instead rubbed the back of my head, feigning a migraine to give me time to think.

"Alfred." I lied.

Amelia grinned, "Okay. On behalf of my brother, I thank you, Alfred." she said this all rather formally but after seeing my expression she began giggling.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Sorry." she chortled, "I was just imagining Roger hearing me say that." Amelia met my eyes, "Do you want me to call a doctor since you're feeling better?"

"Can't I just leave?"

Amelia pouted, "Do you want to get rid of me so soon?"

My eyes widened and I began denying it hurriedly but this only made her laugh harder, "Just kidding." she said in a sing-song voice, "You can't leave the hospital just like that, or there'd be a bunch of injured people escaping before they're ready. I'll call a nurse for you."

Amelia turned around and walked out of the door. The moment it slammed shut I brought both hands up to my head and began to panic.

"Crud!" I exclaimed under my breath. _They'll know there's something up if I let them inspect me_! I thought, _Crud, what am I going to do_?

I looked around and grabbed my shirt and jacket but I was only halfway through buttoning it up when a male nurse came in. He had short blonde hair that was brushed in a way so it spiked up but his sea-green eyes were dull.

"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned at the sight of me about to make a break for it.

"I think I'm better now so I want to leave." I said quickly but the nurse didn't look quite convinced.

"Your friend mentioned you'd woken up already but I'm not quite sure how. The bullet shattered your collarbone and should have left you in quite a bit of pain."

I smiled nervously, "I'm a really fast healer." I made sure to touch my head and blink a lot as I talked so my lies could be passed off as me merely having a headache.

The nurse frowned, obviously unconvinced, but then he held up a clipboard, "You were brought here by Miss Banister but she couldn't give me any of your details. I need you to answer some of my questions so I can file this properly, are you okay with this?"

I felt like I had no choice but to nod.

The nurse leant forwards so I was able to read his little name tag. He was apparently called Justin Johnston. He looked down at the sheet and uncapped his pen, "So, what is your name? he read.

"Alfred...Jones." I wondered idly whether there was actually someone called Alfred who'd get annoyed that I'd stolen his name.

Johnston wrote it down, "And how old are you?"

"Nineteen." I invented and he noted it again.

"And, I hope you don't mind if I ask this, but how did this happen to you?"

I hesitated but as I did so I got a suspicious look off Johnston so I relented, "I was in the city and doing my shopping but then the riots started. There was this one person...irritating the police officers so they were about to fire in retaliation. I wanted to save him so I...um...jumped in the way."

I wasn't sure whether the expression on his face was him thinking I was lying or not believing I was such an idiot. But it was the truth so I didn't really have much to say after that point.

Johnston finished writing so he put the lid back on his pen and pocketed it. He rested the clipboard on a small polypocket attached to the foot of the hospital bed then looked up at me.

"Can you please take off your shirt again? If you are as fixed up as you say you are I 'll still need to inspect your injury." Johnston said.

I raised my arm defensively so it blocked my collar from his view, "You don't have to. I'm not in pain anymore so it's all good, right?"

Johnston frowned, "I need to see how much you've healed. The fact you are moving as you are pretty remarkable as it is, especially since your injury was quite serious, but before you leave I must be able to judge your state." he insisted.

 _How do I get out of this_? I thought in a panic. Johnston' gaze was insistent and boring into me persistently. I held out for as long as I could but eventually I had no choice but to submit.

Johnston huffily unwrapped the clean bandages around my collarbone after I'd grudging been forced to take off my shirt. I saw him looking confused at the fact I hadn't bled at all while I was stiff in anticipation, waiting for the inevitable moment when I'd have to explain myself. Then the dressings were gone. I saw Johnston gasp and I forced myself to stay still.

"Wha-what?!" he exclaimed in a surprisingly quiet voice, "But I saw...how...?" his eyes darted up to my eyes and I saw the colours in his eyes swirled, like moss floating atop a stormy ocean. I edged away from him on the bed cautiously, "I _saw_ you were injured. You were shot!"

"U-um..." I stuttered but I couldn't come up with a single lie that would explain it plausibly, "Sorry!" I yell before grabbing my shirt and jacket with one hand then shoving the poor nurse out of the way. I wasn't particularly good at knowing my own strength but thankfully we were in a hospital so if he accidently got too hurt he could get the aid he needed.

I threw on my shirt haphazardly then quickly buttoned up my jacket to hide it. I dashed out of the room but skidded to a halt the moment I got out of the room. If people spotted me sprinting then they'd think something was up.

I looked down the corridor and my eyes danced around in my sockets as I tried to find my way out by following the signs, hoping I didn't look too lost or suspicious.

"Hey, Al."

I wheeled around, very much looking like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car but then found it was just Amelia.

She caught my expression and her face fell but her face still looked somewhat cheerful, "Do you mind if I call you Al?"

I shook my head and forced a smile, "Nah, it's fine, Amelia. They said I'm fit for release."

Amelia grinned back, "Then you can just call me Amy. I don't live too far from where you live, I can give you a lift if you need it."

"Wait, how do you know where I live?"

Amy looked away sheepishly. Her face became even rosier, "We searched your jacket to try and find out who on earth you were but all we found was a note in your pocket. What kind of person walks around without even a license or anything?"

I slowly reached inside the inner pocket of my jacket and took out a carefully folded, then hastily refolded, piece of paper.

I yelped in recognition of the small, purple writing. _If lost, please return to_...then my address. I could practically hear England's snarky voice. My mind began to feel like it was being pumped full of air until it was to the brim with questions.

 _When did he write this? How did he know I was in trouble? How the_ hell _did he get my jacket?!_

"Al? Are you okay?" Amy asked, clearly concerned.

I composed my face again, "N-nothing. I just didn't know he'd put this in my pocket, that's all."

"'He'? Do you have a brother or something?"

"Yeah." I said sullenly. I didn't want to think of England as my brother again but the thing that really made me sad was thinking about Canada. He'd been fighting against the Axis Powers will the Allies all this time.

Thankfully, Amy didn't press any further. Instead, she grinned and began walking. She indicated for me to follow so I followed her through the hospital. I avoided the gaze of any of the employees in case Johnston had somehow already sent out a warrant for me or something.

We got outside and Amy stopped near the car park. She began tapping her foot almost straight away, "My brother's gonna be picking us up." she explained.

I glanced nervously back at the hospital entrance doors but then turned back to Amy, "So what were you doing in the middle of that riot?" I queried.

Amy began looking nervous, "My brother. He's been getting awfully fussed about the British so he wanted to go along. I came with him to try convincing him not to but then...well, you know."

"So what do you think? About the war, I mean." that waiter's comments and my own actions had been making me confused so I was keen to get some citizens' opinions.

"I don't feel like they should be forcing it on us." she said immediately. Amy didn't say much more than that.

We waited for a few more minutes while we made occasional small talk but she didn't say much more after that. The evening was very cloudy in a stark contrast to the sunny weather we'd had earlier that day but it felt apt to my mood.

Finally, she spotted her brother's car and dragged me over to it. A stocky man poked his head out of the window and beamed at me. He had much darker hair than his sister but they shared the same wide brown eyes.

"Hey! It's great to see you're better!" he began to open his car door but Amy held her hand against the metal.

"C'mon Roger. We gotta take him home now. Y'know the small road that branches off into the forest near the Lyons' place. His house's up that road." Amy explained.

Roger kept smiling but rolled his eyes at his sister. He leant over the passenger seat of his car and unlocked the door on that sight. He invited me in and I sat down awkwardly.

Amy deflected a lot of his questions for me but I could feel the two siblings' eyes flicking towards me all throughout the journey. I didn't mind the questions so much since I was very much enjoyed the company but it was the lying that I hated. Not only was I pretty bad at coming up with things like that on the spot but I also didn't like having to lie to such cool-seeming people so my mind was a mix of relief and sadness when the car finally stopped.

"Thank you for the lift, guys. It means a lot." I said but the Banisters looked too surprised by the house.

"Wow! You live in a mansion?!" Roger exclaimed.

My face reddened, "It's...my brother's. I'm just staying here while he's working."

Roger unlocked his side and exited the car with me. His mouth was ajar as he stared at the large house. There wasn't much of a garden but it was surrounded by woods so it still got the pretty view despite being isolated.

I quickly unlocked the door but I stopped at the threshold. I looked back and smiled at Roger, "Seriously, thanks for doing this."

But Roger waved me off, "This is nothing." he put his hand on my shoulder and stared into my eyes with the utmost gratitude, "You saved my life. I'm not going to _not_ help you. I only wish I could've..." he paused and quickly fished a pen out of his trousers. He held my wrist still as he hastily scribbled something on my arm.

It was a phone number. I looked back to Roger and his grin grew somehow larger, "Think of that as your nine-nine-nine. If it's legal and nearby I'll come to help you, got it?"

I nodded but then my eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly hugged me. He then stepped back and walked backwards into the car door.

I nodded at him and walked inside the house as he watched me go in. I closed the doors slowly and then heard them drive off.

I looked back grudgingly at the Englishman's house but then I realised something was wrong. The cards and bowl weren't on the table anymore.

I stepped further into my house very much like a person who'd come home to find their door unlocked. It _had_ been locked but the insides of the house felt very different. I peeked through the living room door and found everything spick-and-span.

I immediately ran. I sprinted up the staircase and kicked open England's bedroom door. I didn't know whether I'd really expected him to be there but in the end it didn't matter. The evidence was there.

I'd left his room a complete mess. I'd knocked over his bookshelves and torn off his bedsheets but the room I walked into could have been a display for a furniture catalogue. Everything was so neat and tidy but there was at least one thing out of place.

I trod lightly across the light blue carpet and made my way over to his bed as if I was walking atop a minefield. Unlike my room, England had a window. The white curtains moved gently and fluidly from the breeze coming through the now-open window. The evening light shone in a diluted way onto the floor because of the thin curtains but I didn't turn on the lights. Instead, I reached out and grabbed the envelope lying on the blankets as if it was waiting patiently for me to pick it up.

I ripped it open with no regard for neatness and took out the letter, letting the paper cover fall to the carpet.

The ink was purple so I knew this was a message from England, he _loved_ looking all mystical, but the handwriting was completely different. It was absolutely tiny and was written shakily but was still clear enough. I held the paper close to my face and began to read.

 _Relayed from England via Poppy,_

 _I feel as if you would ignore this message if I'd called you so I simply asked Poppy to write this down since she was the one who'd answered the phone._

 _These sentiments will almost definitely go unheeded and I understand you are angry at me but this is uncalled for. I do not have the time to deal with protests when I'm in the middle of fighting Germany. With France the way he is this is especially important._

 _I was worriedly you would accidently run into the riots and get hurt and it appeared these concerns were not unfounded. Poppy called me earlier today about you getting shot. If you are reading this then I assume you have healed and are home safely. Poppy, Sparkles and a few of the others have tidied up since you appeared to have left it in quite a state (I thought I'd taught you how to tidy up after yourself)._

 _But the real reason I'm writing to you is as a warning. I will keep the measures on Britam at this state until the situations for me improve but I implore you not to go starting up any more of these riots. All you're hurting is yourself._

I gripped the paper tighter. It was as if he thought _I_ was behind them. I glared at the letter. I couldn't believe how patronising England could sound even when he wasn't actually talking.

I got shot in the riot but I was fine now. I was a nation, humans couldn't hurt me for long, so I had no idea why England would be worrying about me.

But then, almost as if the other nation had predicted it, I lurched forwards. Pain blossomed in my chest but my mind held no confusion. I knew exactly what was happening but it didn't stop me from being terrified.

Something was happening in my capital, I knew it as clearly as I knew I was America. It wasn't the physical condition but it felt like I was having a heart attack. It was as if my heart was imploding and a hammer had slammed into me.

'What has he done?' was my last thought before I sank to the floor.

* * *

 **It's almost as America is my puppet and I'm performing the Draco Malfoy song from HPPP - ' _America like_ fire' e.t.c - People should not be given this power *insert evil laugh here***

 **It's sad, this won't be lasting for much longer, two chapters max. I want to publish the final chapter on the 4th July so if there's a long wait or whatever it's probably because I'm just biding my time.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, or didn't, I'd appreciate if you review so I can improve for you! :D**


	11. The News Has Reached Us

**P.O.V America**

As soon as I was on my feet again it didn't take me long to find out what had happened. All I had to do was switch on the telly and watch the live coverage on the news. And I thought the riot I'd been in was terrifying.

Washington was utterly unrecognisable in the chaos. I had to turn away just because it hurt me so much to see. I flopped onto the sofa and cradled my head in my hands, everything was just so confusing.

I breathed deeply and tried to process each thought at a time. England has been spying on me. I had no idea who Poppy was but the fact he'd mentioned Sparkles left me with many ludicrous suggestions milling about in my brain.

 _Could...England be spying on me with...fairies_? I wondered. I shook my head. I'd be going paranoid at this rate if I was on the lookout for all the non-existent creatures England always claimed he saw.

I sat still and let the newscaster's droning voice wash over me into the background without me actually listening to what he was saying. I knew the news would be determined to show the protesters in a negative light regardless of what they doing. It was still going against the British Empire.

I didn't understand how I could be so confused by the people who _I_ represented. I tried analysing my emotions in an attempt to make sense of it but everything I came up with contradicted what I was staring at.

I was still angry at England but now I was overwhelmed by _pity_. I felt sorry for England, I sort of _emphasised_ with him. If that was true then why on earth was I watching a mass protest in my capital?

I really missed Canada in times like this; I hadn't really talked to him for a year. Most of the news from the war had just flown over my head while I was busy dealing with the austerity measures and refusing England so I didn't really know what was going on at the moment. Anything could be happening and I'd be none the wiser, I just hoped that no-one was getting too hurt even though I knew that was a naive thing to think.

I stared back at the TV and watched the reporter talking into her microphone in front of the remains of some building. Several areas of the brick were blackened and only the rim of jagged glass remained of the window.

I listened to the man for a while as a growing feeling of discomfort began bubbling up inside me. I didn't want to force my people to die for a war that didn't concern us, that would not change, but I was seeing these protests and couldn't help thinking that this wasn't the way to go. All that came from them was people getting even more scared about _them_ than the problem they're rebelling against.

I'd been willing to fight for my freedom but this was different to a revolution. It was like the difference between an actual battle and a civil war. I rarely think the latter could be justified.

I remembered the waiter's words, ' _You can only sit by and watch for so long_ '. I think those words had hit closer to home for me than he'd realised. England would probably mock me for trying to be a 'hero' but I didn't actually _want_ to let Europe tear itself apart. I could tell many people were the same; even the selfish wouldn't want our ruler to continue with the shortages.

I smirked and rubbed my head. My brain felt like a fizzed-up bottle of fizzy drink, as if it could just blow up at any time.

Ever since Michael walked out on me I hadn't really had any more American friends. I spent most of my time with England or Canada so my conversations with the Banisters had been some of the first in a long time.

I smiled to myself. It was too late to call them, the sun had just gone down and stars had begun to peek out from the black sky outside the window, but I wanted to see them again, and I did.

The next day I called Roger and Amy. From the tone of his voice I could tell that Roger had thought I was in trouble but nonetheless he sounded happy he could come over, as was I. I invited them over and even though the first few times were pretty awkward I was happy to finally be able to talk to people again.

I had to invent quite a few things about myself to stop them from getting suspicious but I tried keeping it as close to the truth as possible. I had to call England my brother but I tried keeping him out of conversation anyways. I taught Amy and Roger how to play cards but also learnt a lot about them as I did so.

Amy was eighteen and studying music while her brother worked locally for the government, which _really_ surprised me, considering why I'd met him. No wonder Roger had looked so sheepish when he told me.

I liked being able to express my feelings for once. England had never to been the emotional type but even though he'd raised me it hadn't rubbed off. I loved listening to Amy play the guitar, I loved talking with them but it was interesting to hear their opinions as well.

"It wasn't my idea, one of my friends told me about it and asked to see if I'd come. It might have been some group organising them but I have no idea whether they were an organisation or something." he rested his chin on his fist and stared at the TV which was just blended into the background. I passed three of my cards to Roger then looked back at it. The newscaster was interviewing a police officer in some town.

"That's probably the case though." Richard concluded as he slid three face-down cards over to his sister, "I doubt all these protests occurring at once could just be coincidence." I nodded in agreement.

"It's not like I think that we _shouldn't_ be able to stop being under Britain's rule but things are starting to get out of hand. I don't think this is exactly the right way. Do you remember Canada?" Amy asked. She placed down the four of clubs.

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "What about him?"

Amy and Roger stared at me for a moment like I'd done something stupid, then I suddenly realised I had. My eyes widened suddenly, "Um, so, are you talking about how Canada got _its_ independence?"

Amy arched her eyebrow but nodded anyway, "Yeah. They got their independence from England peacefully after all, so it might work for us."

I frowned, "But that was seventy-two years ago. England has _definitely_ changed in that amount of time."

Roger reluctantly set down his king of clubs and gathered the three cards we'd all put down. He met my eyes, "You can be pretty old-fashioned when it comes to things like that." he noted.

I tensed, "What d'you mean?"

Roger shrugged, "With the countries and places. You don't really use 'it' a lot. It's funny though, I thought you were supposed to use 'she'."

I suppressed the laugh that came with me referring to England as a 'she' and smiled innocently. Roger started the next round and our attention went back to the game. Then the phone rang.

I briefly looked to Roger and Amy but she gestured for me to pick up the phone while her brother mouthed, 'It's fine'. I pushed back my chair and hurried over to the noisy machine on the wall.

I paused before grabbing the receiver. Only the Banisters and other nations knew this number. Since a lot of them were at war and the two were behind me I knew who it was going to be. I didn't want to talk to England, especially after that condescending letter, but I reached out so I wouldn't seem suspicious. I held the phone close to my face so there was a smaller chance of eavesdropping, not that Roger or Amy would do that.

"Hello?" I said, unable to keep the annoyance out of my hushed voice. Then there was a wavering crackle as if the caller had breathed heavily on the other side.

"Thank goodness you picked up."

My mouth fell ajar in shock. It was England's voice, but barely. He sounded like his voice had to travel through a desert and a forest of nails before it reached the phone. He sounded awful.

"E..." I quickly stopped myself from saying his name, "What happened to you? You sound like crud."

I expected him to laugh at my panic or rebuke the insult but all I got was his serious response, "America, I need to apologise. What I did to you was..." there was a string of hoarse coughs, "I'm ashamed of it."

I frowned, "Did you phone me just to say that? And you still haven't answered my question, what's wrong?"

"The news will reach you soon. I don't have the breath to waste telling you." England croaked.

I glanced quickly back to the brother and sister at the card table. Roger's hand immediately retracted from the pile of my cards and met my eyes. I shot them an apologetic look then walked out of the room. I stopped shortly outside of the door since the phone's cord had stretched as far as it would go.

" _England_." I whispered into the phone exasperatedly, "Tell me now or I'll just hang up. I'm not in the mood to be messed around by you all the time."

"America." England echoed in a sarcastic nature but he continued regardless, abandoning the humour and caving into weariness again. He sighed, "Things may get hard for you lately. Something happened to Canada and I so I'm saying sorry in advance for any pain I might cause you."

My blood seemed to turn to liquid dread, "What happened to him?!" I demanded, only just containing my anger.

"We were attacked." England said simply, "We walked right into a trap and..." I heard his voice falter and my eyes widened at the sound. I'd seen him through, what I'd thought was, thick and thin but I'd never heard him sound so...vulnerable.

"Are...are you two going to be okay?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice.

"I doubt we'll _die_ , but we're going to be in trouble for a while."

"Can I speak to him? Where even is he?"

There was a small pause, "I would have France look after him but he's currently occupied...pun, uh, not intended, so it's up to our allies. But even then we're pretty..." he stopped himself, "Never mind. I didn't call to unload all my problems on you, only to warn you." I noticed his voice was beginning to trail away, "Good-bye, America."

"No, wait! You can't..!" there was a clack and all the noise from England's end shut off. I gripped the receiver so tight that my knuckles became white. I resisted the urge to throw the phone through the wall but I still slammed my fist against the wall. It created a small dent in the wall but I didn't care.

"Alfred?" my head whipped around to see Amy peering around the doorframe at me with a worried expression on her face. I met her eyes and saw how shocked she was at the sight of me, "Did something happen to your brothers?" she asked quietly.

I thought about shaking my head but ended up nodding. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, "Something happened in Europe, or Africa or...somewhere, he didn't tell me. But something happened to my brothers."

Amy was quiet for a moment while my mind worked furiously. If Canada and England's troops had been severely attacked them I didn't even want to guess their state at the moment. England hadn't stayed to talk long so that meant that things were really bad. I couldn't call France, I didn't know Russia or China's phone numbers and even then I doubted they would tell me much and if things were going to get bad for me then I couldn't rely on my own health to be good for much longer. I needed to act.

"Do you know what happened? Is it about the war?" Amy wondered aloud.

"Yeah, it's that." my voice was hollow and expressionless as all my emotions were up in my head and clouding my thoughts.

"If it's as bad as you think then it'll almost definitely be on the news tonight, news travels fast nowadays." Amy said reassuringly but I didn't quite take it that way. I doubted my fear would be dispelled by the knowledge that something had hurt Canada and England so bad.

Roger had now walked up to join Amy and see what had happened, "You guys still playing?" he asked but he soon stopped at the sight of my expression, "You okay, dude?"

Amy's cheerful expression faded. She placed her hand on my shoulder and smiled but it wasn't a happy one, "Do you want to have some time alone?"

I let my hands fall back to my sides and I shrugged in fake indifference, "You guys don't have to leave if you guys don't want to but...but I gotta make some phone calls."

Amy nodded but then Roger walked away to get something. Amy and I waited curiously but then he came back into view carrying a radio. He adjusted the dials on it for a while before the white noise finally turned into something comprehensible. He passed the portable radio over to me, "It's the news at six. It'll be starting soon."

And as if on the cue, the radio spoke up.

The voice was that of an excited-sounding man who was speaking quite fast with music playing quietly in the background behind him.

' _And with that was Logan Richards with his latest album. It is available to all our loyal listeners who wish to listen to it again and call our other number._

 _And now, the news at six o'clock._ '

There was a short jingle and the enthusiastic man had been replaced by a serious man whose voice sounded far too inexpressive considering what he was saying. I found me wishing for him to sound sad or mournful or _something_. But I understood the sentiments. As I listened I began hearing repression in his voice.

' _The British and Canadian troops have had to retreat from the North African battlefields after a devastating ambush at approximately midnight in by the Axis troops there. The number of casualties is not yet known but over 2,000 deaths have been reported, the majority being on the Allied side._

 _The British and Canadian military has been pushed back from past the Tunisian borders after the retreat but their forces have faced a catastrophic blow. The Allies were ambushed and surrounded early in the morning, followed with a lengthy battle._

 _This, added with the heavy bombing London experienced the previous night, means that shortages are to be expected in the United Kingdom and British-controlled nations as the supplies are overextended._

 _There will be more information on this as it reaches us._ '

It didn't feel like enough. The three of us stood there, feeling quite shell-shocked at the news. They'd switched into another story but none of us were actually listening anymore.

I clenched my fists. Is _that_ what had happened to England and Canada? I could still remember the pain I'd felt when my capital had been damaged so vividly that it might as well have been happening at that moment. A bombing in London _then_ an attack by Axis?

 _Canada_... _What possible state could you be in_? I could scarcely imagine it. And England...To say I wasn't his biggest fan wasn't completely wrong but no matter what he did to me still couldn't erase some things. He still was the man who'd raised me and the one who'd protected me when I was defenceless. I hadn't wanted anyone to go through this and I still didn't.

I could feel the simultaneous shock of every American who'd just listened to that broadcast resounding through my body, through America.

 _You can only sit by and watch for so long_... _You can only sit by and watch for so long_... _You can only sit by and watch for so long_...

Or at least that's what I like to think.

* * *

 **And that concludes the penultimate chapter.**

 **Now my exams are over for the term I can finally start writing again. I _will_ get the final chapter out on the fourth (though if it's not it may be the whole 'time zone' thing) so I hope you enjoy that when it comes out.**

 **I can't believe I forgot to say this _again_ at the 10th chapter but I'd love to say this again:**

 **I love each and every one of you who favourites, follows and reviews this story! :D**


	12. V-Day

**Turns out I was wrong. This _isn't_ the last chapter but I hope you enjoy it anyways. It may be a bit rushed but I didn't really want to go through the rest of the Second World War, it would probably damper the happy ending I'm trying to write.**

 **6 days to go ;)**

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

Horror. That pretty much summed up most of the Allied world's reactions to the events of the next day. I tried calling England, Canada and even some of the other Allies but no-one seemed to be picking up. I just couldn't believe what had happened to them. If England had _apologised_ to me then I expected he'd been trying to get everything off his chest in case something worse happened to him but I refused to let that happen. I was not going to let England rest and certainly not in peace. It was my duty as his annoying colony to stop him from doing just that.

But it had been one of the bloodiest and most one-sided battles this war had seen so far, not that the others were anything to scoff at. The British and Canadian forces in Africa had been decimated so their resources had been pretty spent covering the losses so in a way this was the perfect way to convince us.

Britain and Britamerica had a co-dependent relationship of sorts. We needed them for a lot of things and we were their back-up plan if anything went wrong. To preserve both our countries we...we would have to fight.

But I didn't care anymore. It was a strange thing but ever since the initial declaration our resolve had been weakening. It would be risking ourselves in the process but things had passed the point where we could refuse to help any longer, just a look out of any regular window would have told you the same thing.

A massive burst of shock had been unleashed and I was really surprised at how quickly people were switching to favour the Allies' side. I could tell that people still weren't too keen on being controlled by Britain but Canada had been very good to us ever since their independence so it was worth uniting for the greater good.

Even _I_ was startled by the speed of our own organisation. I refused to conscript but the number of people who'd joined us of their own free will was astounding. No single attack could end a war but sometimes a push in the right direction is all it takes.

It was definitely a surprising surprise attack. I didn't think that Axis expected me to join the Allies after my refusal of England became so publicly known to the others but that was exactly what I needed. We won. It wasn't an overwhelming victory when it came to the advances but all I wanted from it came. We showed them our power and managed to send the message clearly. I wasn't going to let them hurt my brother like that. I'd been so focused on England that I'd let Canada slip from my mind but I swore not to let it happen again.

After the initial attack I wasted no time finding Canada and England. They were both recovering the Allies' base so it fortunately didn't take me long to get to them.

The moment I walked through the doors I was almost immediately met by some surprised faces. Russia and China both turned to look at me with wide-eyes. I was breathing heavily from the anticipation and the aftermath of my battle but I just disregarded all that.

"Where's Canada and England?" I asked them.

Russia was the first to recover from the shock of seeing me there, "Oh, so you've finally joined the fight? Good for you. Your brother is in the lounge next to the meeting room. I think England's went crazy."

I frowned at him but I could guess what he meant. England was probably off speaking to all his imaginary friends somewhere. I nodded in appreciation and dashed off past the two other nations to where they'd indicated Canada to be.

Once I'd passed the threshold of the lounge I stopped abruptly. The gloom that filled the room hit me like a physical wall and for a moment it felt as if I'd forgotten how to breathe.

Someone had turned off the light and drawn the curtains so everything was enveloped in darkness, only barely penetrated by the corridor's glow and the little sunlight allowed to stream through the thick cloth covering the windows. There were several plush sofas arranged around a coffee table for when countries wanted to converse in a less formal setting but just because it wasn't formal didn't make the atmosphere any less grim.

Empty mugs and an open first-aid kit was scattered across the low wooden table while some glasses and a heavy-looking beige coat lay on the floor next to one of the sofas. An adorable fluffy polar bear cub slept restlessly on the chair pushed up next to the longest and most central settee, making cute little snoring noises as it tossed and turned.

But then there was Canada himself. Someone had laid a blanket over him but it looked as if he'd attempted to weakly throw it off himself. Canada was wearing a fine white shirt and some rolled up brown trousers but nothing else. His face was very pale but he was also looking really red in his cheeks and forehead. Canada moved irregularly as he breathed shortly and raggedly, his usually neat wavy blonde hair was unrulier than usual and his eyes weren't closed all the way as he slept so he looked like some kind of zombie.

I'd never seen him look so pale and sick. I dashed to his side and knelt down next to him but even from there I could feel the enormous amount of heat his was radiating.

I shook his shoulder gently and whispered his name, "Canada? Canada, it's me, America. I'm here to help you."

His violet eyes fluttered open and his lip quivered like he was trying to smile, "M...me...rica?"

I nodded, "Yeah, it's me. You feeling okay?" it was a pretty futile question. Canada looked deadly feverish and even when they were open his eyes looked dull and unfocused.

"N...not really. But I never th...thought you'd b...e here." I saw him wince as he talked and my heart seemed to lurch in my chest as I realised how bad his condition was.

" _E...est-Ang…leterre ici_?" Canada asked in stuttering French.

I smiled weakly at him but found it hadn't quite reached my eyes. Confusion and concern still swam around in the blue and there wasn't much I could do about that.

"You know I don't speak French, bro." I chortled but I couldn't help choking on the emotion towards the end. I was just so worried and I had no idea what to do about. I knew that nations wouldn't die from mortal injuries like swords or guns unless they were immediately invaded completely but I knew that wasn't the case here. I balled my hands up in the brown sleeves of the military uniform I'd thrown together at the last moment.

"Are you gonna be alright? I mean, you're not going to _die_ are you?" I asked but Canada probably didn't hear it, my voice had suddenly cut out from my fear.

"Don't worry...aboot me." the country said slowly. There was quiet. I moved my lips but no sound came out. I stared into Canada's eyes and was reminded of delicate stained glass. He looked as if a breeze could cause him to shatter.

Tears began clouding my vision but I stubbornly blinked them out of my eyes, not wanting to look away from my brother.

I put my arm around him again. He was so hot it was uncomfortable for me to just do that but I didn't care. I hugged him as best as I could and spoke into his ear so even my struggling voice could be heard.

"I'm not gonna let you die on me. I'll fight a thousand armies to make sure of that. I'm here to help and I promise I will."

Canada's mouth was only a few inches away from _my_ ear so I heard him clearly, "Is England here?"

I carefully straightened up so I wouldn't be disturbing him but when I glanced around the room I didn't see anyone but Kumajirou.

"Not unless he's turned into a polar bear." I joked. Canada laughed softly but it sounded more like the rattling of an old train than the warmth I was used to. I gently brushed the hair out of his face, "Do you want me to get him for you?"

Canada's head lolled but I took it for a nod. His heavy breathing filled the room and I listened to it in a frozen state. The sound felt equal parts comforting and distressing. He was alive but each breath reminded me like a thundering hammer, only barely.

I ran out of the backwards, keeping my eyes locked on Canada as if I was afraid of him disappearing into smoke if I looked away. I closed the door noiselessly so I wouldn't disturb him then wasted no time in sprinting across the building to find England.

The Allies' base had changed from the First World War but that wasn't really the issue. If I knew _where_ the Englishman was then this would be a heck of a lot easier.

It took me less than half an hour to search, what I believed to be, all the rooms but I still couldn't find him. I was about to give up and return to Canada's side when something outside the window caught my attention.

I wandered around for a bit longer to find the backdoor but when I did I yelped. I hadn't even fully opened the door before the sight had struck me.

There was a clear, grey cloud cover over the sky that made even the middle of the day seem like a dim and dreary time. There was a vast garden but the grass was beginning to look unkempt from the lack of maintenance but I wasn't really one for paying attention to the greenery, especially when my eyes fell on the body splayed on the earth.

England looked even worse than Canada. He was lying face down with the grass obscuring most of his face but his blonde hair looked more like lifeless straw and his skin was pallid. His military uniform hung loosely around his frame as if he'd lost some weight too quickly and England himself seemed to be more fragile. The air around us was lukewarm but he was shivering. I expected that if I could see his face his expression would be even more sickly than Canada's.

"England!" I cried, feeling concerned in spite of myself. I stooped low so I was kneeling by his side on the long grass. I shook his shoulder with a bit more force than I probably should have but I needed him to wake up.

"Wake up!" I said more forcefully but it seemed like he was a scarecrow or something, completely devoid of muscle or mind.

"Wake up, you damned limey!" it wasn't the best insult in the world but it was enough. England stirred somewhat. His head rolled from side to side slightly as his jaw moved from speech.

"Oh...you came..." he noted , supposingly casual, but England's voice was still the damaged and hoarse one I'd heard over the phone, but worse.

"Yes, I came. I wasn't going to sit by and let the Axis creeps attack my bro. That's why I'm here specifically, Canada wants to see you." I explained hurriedly.

I reached down as if to pick him up, I'd always been strong enough to carry him and he looked lighter now anyways, but I stopped with my hands hovering just a few centimetres away from him.

"Um, can you get to your feet by yourself or do you need me?" I queried cautiously.

England replied by seizing up suddenly then slumping completely, not moving even slightly. I cried out again and put the back of my hand against his unusually paler skin then immediately retracted it. He was burning up like he had lava instead of blood. I sighed. At least he was alive, for now.

I gritted my teeth with worry then reached down. I quickly positioned the unconscious country over my shoulder like a fireman then rushed inside.

England kept making little churning noises whenever I moved but I forced myself to ignore it. I had no idea what on earth he was doing outside on the grass but I knew that he needed to be inside where he was safe.

Thankfully I didn't pass Russia and China on my way back to the lounge because with my recent behaviour it wouldn't take too much for them to think I was kidnapping England but as I carried him through the corridors I became even more worried.

England felt so fragile and lifeless than I kept waving my free hand in front of his face to check he was still breathing. His breathing was continuously switching from heavy to wheezing but I was no doctor so I had no idea what to do for him. I just gritted my teeth and made my way back to the lounge, hoping I'd be able to work something out for the two of them.

I walked in and couldn't help but daw at the scene. Canada was still sleeping on the sofa but Kumajirou was standing by his side and trying to reapply a small icepack he'd tried to rest on the Canadian's forehead.

Kumajirou's head turned to the sound of me opening the door and dropped the ice in surprise. I smiled at the adorable polar bear, "It's fine, 'Jirou. I'll sort that out."

I strolled across the room and carefully unloaded the Englishman onto the spare settee. I then crouched down and picked up the pack from off the carpet. I placed it carefully on Canada's head then turned my attention back to England. I'd been right. England's face was screwed up in pain and he looked as haggard as his breathing. He looked even more feverish than Canada so I made sure to carefully take off his jacket, then I cringed.

Underneath his green uniform jacket his white shirt was spotted with blood from the cuts I assumed were all over his body but they seem centred around his heart. It was as if his shirt was some sort of map that had a red marker for each place that had been attacked.

I looked from England to Canada then I met Kumajirou's eyes. I turned away and clenched my fists in anger. I couldn't believe I'd let this happen to them. As I looked at my brother and former guardian I was filled with shock at myself.

 _How could I have let something like independence get in the way of family yet again_? There weren't any more places to sit since Canada and England were occupying the sofas and Kumajirou was sitting on the spare chair so I sat cross-leggedly on the carpet to collect my thoughts.

Things were getting pretty bad for the Allies at the moment. I needed to help as soon as possible. I wanted to do so much but everything had its limits. I didn't want to leave Canada again but war waited for no-one. Thinking on my feet wasn't exactly the skill I was the most adept at but I found that part of brain was having to be exercised more as of late. For the European plans we should have been relying on England, Canada or France but now those duties had been delegated to me.

So I fought. I fought with the remaining Allies against the Axis Powers to the best of my ability. I got the shortages and troubles England had warned me about but I didn't care. With Canada and England out of commission there wasn't anything else I _could_ do but deal with it. I was feeling expended from all my efforts but it wasn't too long before that all disappeared.

I was in a global strategy meeting with China and Russia, discussing how best to deal with the enemy's latest attacks, when the doors opened. Blue, violet and brown eyes turned to the doorway but then they widened when the three of us saw who was coming in.

The one in front was looking unbelievably better and the man walking behind him still looked much stronger than before.

Canada grinned at me and England gave me a reassuring smile before they both resumed serious and meeting-appropriate demeanours. Russia, China and I all looked surprised at the sight of them but it didn't take long for that surprise to turn to relief. Now this could start again and this time, we weren't going to lose.

It took a few more years than I'd expected but that didn't really matter in the long run. France hadn't been completely free for four years, it was nothing in the long run of our long lives but as nations we lived in the moment. But even after centuries I would still claim that moment to be the best in all my memory, the moment I saw Canada's expression after the liberation of France. France's expression was great too but, y'know, it was my brother. I wasn't exactly unbiased.

And after that it seemed just to be a big downwards spiral for the Axis. Of course it wasn't a straight line, I had my ups and downs, as did everyone, but when May the eighth came even ecstatic couldn't describe my mood.

I _did_ sorta feel sorry for Germany and Italy, since they'd lost and all, but after all they did I was willing to spare some of my apathy on them. I wasn't really allowed in the massive conference they had in Canada, away from all the fighting, since I still wasn't a country on my own but when Canada and England came out with bananas for smiles and wouldn't tell me most of the details I began getting suspicious in the good kind of way, like a child awaiting a birthday surprise. It seemed a bit of an odd idea but I imagined they were all planning some sort of celebration after this whole mess was completely over.

Now we turned our attention to the finally Axis Power. I really didn't like the idea of ganging up on him but it was the only choice we had at that point. This war wasn't going to last much longer, we wanted to make sure of that.

My army was pretty good but when it came to a lot of the special weapons we had none. It wasn't as if England would have let me make bombs while I was acting like an insurgent so I was fine with just going the traditional way.

Russia, China, America, Canada, England. All of us had to go to Japan. I was just so grateful that it didn't take that much longer before we could celebrate VJ day as well. And boy, was it celebrated.

* * *

 **Woo hoo! The Second World War is over and the celebrations may officially commence!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I would love if any of you commented on my writing via reviews! :D**


	13. Independence Day

**This is guys, the end of the end. I'm so thankful to everyone who's followed this story and to those who've favourited it and whatnot. Happy actual Independence day to all the American's reading this on day of upload! :D**

* * *

 **P.O.V Canada**

I couldn't describe how happy I was. All the nations had come to North America to party where we'd signed the papers and all so I was happy I could gleefully ignore the fact that it would almost definitely fall on me to clean up the next day. I trusted that I could persuade at least a few of them to join me since, as I looked around at the antics before me, I knew many of these nations would be staying the night.

The sun was already low and the wind was starting to get chilly in the September evening but there was enough energy filling all of us to feel like it was summer. There was a station set up so anyone could choose the next music so America and I had danced to French, English, Dutch and more. But I loved that with music you didn't have to understand the words to enjoy it.

I also loved watching America party, he was so energetic it was contagious, but even then I got tired easily from keeping up with him. I left him with Kumajirou and walked over to the drinks table someone had set up. Only an hour ago it had been full but now, not so much.

I grabbed a pint of Molson from off the table and thought about re-joining America but paused. His grin lit up his entire face and Kumajirou looked like an adorable plushie in his arms, trying not to get accidently squashed by the much taller American. My gentle smile grew larger and I leant back against one of the buildings in the street party.

Russia was walking quite briskly in one direction as his younger sister seemed to be interrogating Estonia, somehow Poland had got into a drinking contest with Cuba, Australia and the Netherlands (I kind of wanted to hear the story behind _that_ ), and France was now unconscious with other Allied countries dancing dangerously close to him and Norway kicking him in an apathetic attempt to wake him up. Then I saw Belgium and Greece talking and gesturing to the several cats that decorated him away from the massive dance floor that had overtaken most of the road.

"Heeeyyy, Canadaaa!"

I turned and immediately covered my mouth but still couldn't contain the laughter. I assumed it had been France who'd taken advantage of a...quite...drunk England and had drawn the _Tricolore_ across the Englishman's face. England staggered over me with the rum in his cup sloshing quite a lot and his head flickering back to look at America every so often.

"Hello, England." I greeted him back.

England grinned at me and said in a slurred voice, "Did you see what I did to the*hic* froogg?"

I looked back to France and frowned with concern, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

England chuckled, "Belieeeeve me. It'll take more than _that_ to hurt 'im. Nor' knows watta do if anythin' 'appens." he paused for a moment. He looked around in a manner reminiscent of an intoxicated spy then looked to me, "D'you think this is allllright?" he'd lowered his voice, but only slightly.

My eyes widened in realisation and I craned my neck to glance back at America. Kumajirou was hugging his neck and holding on as the nation danced with Mexico.

I nodded but held up my hand, indicating the gap between my index finger and thumb, "Could you try being a smidgeon quieter, eh?"

England nodded then said in a more hushed, but equally drunk, voice, "'K. This is alright, innit?"

I agreed but couldn't help but notice how his accent had changed to cockney. It was so strange, England was so old and had so many different aspects that it always funny to see him when he was drunk and watch them all come out, "So, about America...Are you sure you want to do this?"

England's face became more serious. His focus wandered from me to my brother again, "I prob'ly *hic* made a mistake the *hic* first time, anyway. He deserved it then but theeennn, Éire, y'know?"

I smiled at him. I wanted to hug him in thanks but knew that would almost definitely get me covered in alcohol. I followed his gaze to the dancing American, "He'll be grateful. I don't think any of the other countries have told him yet."

England sighed jokingly, "Oh yeah. Yaaaayy, more meetingsss."

"We might have to wait a while before it starts up though, eh? We both should sort things out with him before we start setting up any more complex alliances."

"As alwaysss, yer right." he closed one eye and I heard his accent change again.

"Do you want to tell him now?" I wondered.

England was quiet for a moment, then he grinned, "We can wait 'till yer all sob…*hic*…er."

England smirked cheekily at the sight of my incredulous smile; I hadn't even had a drink yet, which was the lesser problem with what he'd just said. He took another unwise sip of his drink then handed the cup to me. England stretched like a waking cat then grinned at me again, "Might as well enjoy m'last day bein' 'is overlord."

I chuckled and watched his stroll over to his former charge. England bowed very gentleman-like to Mexico and apologised for stealing her dance partner. I cocked my head as I thought, _is he a knight now_?

Just before they started, Kumajirou slid off America's shoulders and waddled towards me, doing his best to avoid being trampled by the largely drunk countries dancing around him.

I crouched low and picked up the cute polar bear cub. He wrapped his arms around my neck so he wouldn't fall but it felt like a fairly heavy, fluffy blanket to me. I cuddled the little bear then looked down to the two glasses in my hands. I attempted to lift mine but Kumajirou's foot was in the way.

I gave a quiet but insincere groan and lowered my arms, defeated, then looked into his chocolately brown eyes. I smiled, and he smiled back.

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

My breath was short, I felt my heart hammering against my chest like a marching band's drum and if I could see my reflection I knew I'd find some sort of panicked look plastered on my face. This all seemed so sudden, even if I knew it wasn't. America and Canada had been planning this behind my back ever since the victory in Europe.

Russia had made a cryptic reference to it at the party but I hadn't really understood him since he'd darted away at the last moment to escape Belarus and he was, well, Russia. I wondered whether I'd _ever_ understand what was going on in his mind. If I was honest, I doubted it.

But soon things would be different. I remembered July the first 1867 like it was yesterday, though seventy-eight years wasn't actually that long ago for me. A smile broke past the nervousness on my face. Now it was my turn. I almost wished that this would be happening in summer as well instead of September the twenty-first.

 _This suit is uncomfortable_ , I thought randomly. I ran my hand down the collar of my jacket and tried to stop the itchiness from touching my neck. I hadn't worn formal wear in such a long time; I just hadn't really needed to until now since it had been England who'd usually taken care of anything important where a nation would have to be present.

I grinned again. Very soon _I_ would be the nation representing my country. I knew that I'd probably get tired of the meetings and stuff but it didn't really matter to me at that moment. Canada and England had put up with it for ages so there was no reason why I shouldn't try.

I was in a large hall in Washington and was currently pacing in the corridor attached to the meeting room where I knew Canada and England were waiting. We'd been discussing the finer details for pretty much the entire month and we'd still have a lot to sort out but just like with an actual surprise party they wanted the person of honour to arrive last. When it had been Canada, France had been present but I'd never been as close to him as Canada was so he hadn't come.

This actually brought back a lot of memories from almost two centuries ago, one hundred and sixty-nine years, two months and eighteen days ago to be exact. It was an awful day but sometimes it's the saddest memories that really stick there, so you can learn from them.

I was frozen outside of the door. Everything just felt so...weird at the moment. Every single time I'd tried for independence I'd come so close to losing someone close to me. Would that happen this time?

I shook my head determinedly and grabbed hold of the door's handle. I couldn't lose them if they wanted this to happen themselves. I trusted them. I trusted myself.

I pulled the doors open then walked and the room's occupants automatically focused solely on me. The room was a conference room with a large circular table that wasn't entirely polished but still served its purpose well enough. There were about twelve seats surrounding it but the only people in the room were standing.

England was standing next to some paperwork and had been talking to Canada when I walked in. They both looked up to me and smiled but I expected that my own smile looked a bit odd and crooked from all my anxiety because Canada chuckled. He stepped forwards and patted my shoulder reassuringly.

"It'll all be fine, eh. You've been ready for this for a while."

I began to shrug but then England spoke up, "He's right, America." his tone was odd as he walked over to me. He met my eyes and sighed unsurely, "You deserved this long before now. It was only because I acted foolish that it didn't happen then. I don't blame you for the protests and whatnot when this war started since it was me who forced your hand."

There was silence as I stared in England's forest green eyes, but then the sound of me chuckling broke it, "Since when did you get so apologetic? What happened to the English stiff upper lip?"

England joined in with soft, self-depreciating laughter and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his blonde hair even more so, "Maybe I've been hit in the head too many times recently."

We all laughed again but then Canada tapped my shoulder. I turned around to meet his eyes. He was looking at me happily but also with curiosity.

"Do you have any ideas of what you want to call yourself? I mean, at the moment you're technically the British Colony of America and you can't really be America since that's the actual continent."

I nodded and my eyes flickered to England as I spoke, "Apparently we were digging a bit into old memories because…we chose the United States of America." I didn't really know _what_ I was expecting to see on the Brit's face but I hadn't expected him to smile.

"Good choice, 'The republic of America' would have been boring. It's a tad long but at least it allows for some appreciations." said England.

"It sounds really cool." Canada agreed, "And your flag?"

I smiled one-sidedly and gave them both a teasing look, "You'll see later at the celebrations."

England rolled his eyes, "Fine. Are you ready now?" he'd adopted his serious demeanour and I knew that it was time to stop joking around. I straightened up and flattened my expression, trying to repress the tension bubbling about just below the surface.

"The British minister of America should be negotiating all the finer political details with your elected candidate elsewhere." England began, "But you've promised to join the British Commonwealth along with Canada and the others so this means that the…United States of America," he hesitated slightly at the use of my new name, "and the British Empire will always have connections and the mutual agreement to aid each other when either is in danger. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I replied. He was using a slightly different speech to the one he'd used with Canada but I was trying to emulate my brother's response anyway.

"But, as always, by accepting your independence you're accepting the responsibility for your own country. You now control your own military, trade and economy. You shall rise or fall by your own merits. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I repeated.

"Then I, England of the United Kingdom and British Empire, accept your independence as a full country. You are no longer the British Colony of America, you are the United States."

We shook hands formally but it did not last long. I pulled the two others into a massive hug as a smile spread across my face. This would be difficult because of how long I'd spent under his rule but I'd still have other nations to advise me if things went severely wrong.

"Thank you, you guys!" I beamed.

It truly was a euphoric moment. I felt tears well up but I couldn't even close my mouth from smiling. I couldn't believe it was really happening; I was an actual country now! I was just like England, or France, or Canada, except younger. I'd been waiting for almost a hundred and seventy years so this felt almost like a dream, except I could feel Canada and England's warmth, I could feel my shortness of breath and I could definitely feel my heart beating crazily in my chest.

England was the first one to break away, as I'd expected, even in moments like this he wasn't exactly the hugging type. Canada and I turned to him and I noticed his hand was tucked into his jacket pocket.

"But that's not the only thing." England said. He raised his free hand defensively, "I'll admit I was acting like a bit of twat so I want to make it up to you, or at least attempt to."

I stood up straighter and looked at him with curious eyes, indicating for him to continue, "To start things off, you saved my life and _many_ others in both of the great wars, so we intend to reward you for that. After the Second World War Russia, China, France, Canada and I decided to create a union between all sorts of nations to prevent anything like these wars from happening again. We didn't take enough precautions in 1918 so we're taking action now.

"We're planning for the headquarters to be in Toronto but it won't just be the five of us. We're inviting a lot more countries into the United Nations as well so we want you to join us."

My mouth fell open in surprise then it closed in realisations. So _that's_ what Russia had meant by 'I don't think colony status will treat you for much longer'.

"Th-thank you, England." I stuttered happily but England help up his hand again and silenced me.

He smirked, "I have one more gift for you." he took his hand out of his pocket and held out his present for me to take.

I reached out uncertainly but upon further inspection they were exactly as they looked like. It was just an ordinary pair of thinly framed, black glasses. I put them on, interested, but they didn't really affect my vision at all. I took them off again and looked to Canada.

"Do you get it?" he adjusted his own glasses, they were rounder than mine but otherwise pretty similar, "I got glasses soon after my independence, so we thought it would be funny if you did as well, eh?"

"Also, now you can look like that superhero you're known for, Kent...something, wasn't it?" I widened my eyes at England and faked a scandalised look but it didn't fool anyone, my grin gave me away.

I arched one of my eyebrows at England, "It's _Clark_ Kent." I felt a bit annoyed that he didn't even recognise one of my county's achievements but I couldn't hold it against him. America had had the chance to develop in entertainment since Britain had taken care of the military and all but England would always prefer the 'classics' in that regard.

I smirked again and struck a heroic pose, "How do I look? Like a hero, right?"

"You look great." Canada chortled.

England smiled sincerely, "You already were one."

I stopped and felt my cheeks burn slightly. I wasn't used to England acting this nice to me. He was nearly always at least a bit sarcastic. He must have caught my odd expression because the very next moment he spoke up with wide eyes.

"I'm not teasing you, I-I..." he huffed and crossed his arms, "I just can't compliment you, can I? Well, I suppose I have a reputation to uphold afterall."

I put my arms around Canada and England, "Yeah." I said to the older country, "I bet it won't be long before you're back to your regular self. I think you've already used up all your sincerity for the year." England looked as if he was about to retort but I shushed and winked at him jokingly, "But enough about you. Let's party!"

* * *

 **P.O.V America**

It was only about eight at night but the sky was already dark. There were chilly gusts blowing about on the late September evening but the massive happy crowd definitely provided enough warmth for me.

I was actually thankful for this celebration to be in autumn now because it was early enough for the younger ones to join in but there was still a nice inky sky above us, like an inverted canvas waiting to be painted.

Our new prime minister, Ronald J. Phillips, was making a grand speech in front of the building I'd just been in. The British minister of America was standing behind him, having just presented his short speech, but his face looked rather tight.

The crowd was quiet as Phillips talked but there were little spikes of hushed conversation as the people discussed in small voices about the future.

"Today is a new day! We are no longer under the British parliament, today, we are independent! Today, we are the United States of America!" the new Prime Minister concluded and the cloud burst into cheering louder than the roar of an aeroplane. I joined in with the cheering but my voice merged into the thousands around me.

Something large was unfurled down the large hall and the crowd looked onto the new flag, or to be more accurate, the _old_ flag.

For almost two centuries I'd been associated with a union jack in the corner of a red background with a single white star in the centre. It hadn't been a particularly _bad_ flag but the one I stared at now just seemed to suit me more.

There were thirteen red and white stripes that represented the fifteen original colonies that made me up before England had taken the rest and there were fifty white stars in a navy blue box to make up what I was now.

I'd been digging into my memories the past few weeks and while I saw there I'd found the old flag I'd intended to use after my first fight for independence. I found it funny how the people had still wanted to use it after all this time.

We all applauded the flag and watched in awe as fireworks shot upwards and began to light up the sky. Red, white and blue exploded and decorated the blackness with shimmering, coloured embers.

White signifies purity and innocence, Red, hardiness and valour, and Blue, the colour of the Chief signifies vigilance, perseverance and justice. I remembered someone had said that to me once.

I'd always felt sad that so many people had died without seeing their dream of independence come true but now, as I looked across all these different people and truly felt their joy, I knew that they would know it had happened.

"Happy independence day." I said.

* * *

 **WOO HOO! YAY! I've finished!**

 **57 days in the making I have completed The British Colony of America (and only referenced his _actual_ name about twice in the entire thing) :P**

 **I made a bit point about publishing this on the 4th July for the novelty even though Britam's independence came on the 21st September, but hey. Now I can celebrate the 4th July as an Independence Day instead of just one of my friend's birthday.**

 **But thank you all _so_ much! Diolch yn fawr i pawb, dw i'n caru chi!**


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